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 Turkey and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Don Cherry 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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
The Residents,
The Blackbyrds,
Sight & Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
John Foxx,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bill Near,
Qualms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cymande,
Black Sheep,
Camouflage,
Basic Channel,
The Five Americans,
Harry Pussy,
Henry Cow,
Minutemen,
Cheater Slicks,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Agitation Free,
Model 500,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
Godley & Creme,
The Red Krayola,
Magma,
Sugar Minott,
Soulsonic Force,
Alphaville,
The Golliwogs,
The Monochrome Set,
Joey Negro,
Reuben Wilson,
DNA,
Soul II Soul,
Reagan Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Bluetip,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
Unwound,
Rakim,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lucky Dragons,
Howard Jones,
FM Einheit,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Leaves,
Minny Pops,
Piero Umiliani,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Audionom,
Monolake,
Yazoo,
ABBA,
Silicon Teens,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.