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 Malaysia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Big Daddy Kane to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Motions,
Kenny Larkin,
Warren Ellis,
The Grass Roots,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faust,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sight & Sound,
The Searchers,
Erasure,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lungfish,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
The United States of America,
Brick,
Cal Tjader,
Visage,
the Germs,
Sexual Harrassment,
a-ha,
Adolescents,
Joey Negro,
June of 44,
The Associates,
Clear Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Red Krayola,
The Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
K-Klass,
Kas Product,
Hardrive,
Arthur Verocai,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
Suicide,
The Durutti Column,
Davy DMX,
Skriet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Zeros,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
Ohio Players,
The Velvet Underground,
Parry Music,
Blossom Toes,
Altered Images,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rekid,
Mr. Review,
Rosa Yemen,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Lebanon Hanover,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.