Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Afghanistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Standells to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Victims,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül,
Lindisfarne,
Smog,
Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
D'Angelo,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joensuu 1685,
Rhythm & Sound,
Symarip,
Section 25,
The Wake,
The Divine Comedy,
Yusef Lateef,
Fluxion,
the Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
Oblivians,
Connie Case,
Panda Bear,
Stiv Bators,
The Last Poets,
Althea and Donna,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
Fugazi,
Sonny Sharrock,
One Last Wish,
Subhumans,
Davy DMX,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Talk Talk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Yazoo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Trumans Water,
The Remains,
Hot Snakes,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eurythmics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kayak,
Organ,
Rufus Thomas,
The Selecter,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.