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 Turkmenistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Graham Central Station to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Blackbyrds,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mummies,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kevin Saunderson,
One Last Wish,
Joe Smooth,
The Standells,
Kurtis Blow,
Faust,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Amazonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
KRS-One,
John Foxx,
Nik Kershaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Silicon Teens,
Mad Mike,
The Saints,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Index,
Kerri Chandler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
The Leaves,
E-Dancer,
Can,
Stiv Bators,
The Birthday Party,
Amon Düül,
Davy DMX,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Agitation Free,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Essential Logic,
T.S.O.L.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delta 5,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hoover,
Chris & Cosey,
Ponytail,
Gregory Isaacs,
D'Angelo,
Rekid,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moby Grape,
The Victims,
Soft Machine,
Cal Tjader,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.