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 Sudan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 The Last Poets to the disco 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Harpers Bizarre,
Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mr. Review,
The American Breed,
the Bar-Kays,
June of 44,
Anthony Braxton,
Toni Rubio,
Animal Collective,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Barbara Tucker,
Fela Kuti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Judy Mowatt,
Eddi Front,
Barclay James Harvest,
Carl Craig,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Offenders,
Junior Murvin,
Aloha Tigers,
Sonic Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Godley & Creme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Matthew Bourne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Toasters,
Bootsy Collins,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joyce Sims,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minny Pops,
MC5,
Ronnie Foster,
Faraquet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
CMW,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Flag,
Fatback Band,
Livin' Joy,
The Residents,
Dave Gahan,
Depeche Mode,
Alison Limerick,
Franke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Sherman,
Archie Shepp,
Gong,
Model 500,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.