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 Kiribati and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neu! to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Public Image Ltd.,
Technova,
Kurtis Blow,
Talk Talk,
The Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
Laurel Aitken,
Swell Maps,
Archie Shepp,
Bush Tetras,
The Fugs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Y Pants,
Blancmange,
Anthony Braxton,
Bad Manners,
The Young Rascals,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pierre Henry,
Moby Grape,
Jerry's Kids,
Slave,
Joy Division,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Judy Mowatt,
Heaven 17,
Skaos,
Duran Duran,
The Neon Judgement,
Jandek,
Camouflage,
Reagan Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Banda Bassotti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sound,
Make Up,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Electric Prunes,
Harmonia,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric Dolphy,
The Golliwogs,
Black Bananas,
Quadrant,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Magazine,
Dave Gahan,
T. Rex,
Spandau Ballet,
Stetsasonic,
Whodini,
Delta 5,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jacob Miller,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.