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 Iraq and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League 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?
Thompson Twins,
Cybotron,
Motorama,
F. McDonald,
Joe Smooth,
the Bar-Kays,
Kenny Larkin,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Görl,
Vainqueur,
Howard Jones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Essential Logic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pere Ubu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Anakelly,
The Raincoats,
Marvin Gaye,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Interpol,
Sonic Youth,
Tres Demented,
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Evens,
Idris Muhammad,
Von Mondo,
Peter & Gordon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Byron Stingily,
John Holt,
The Count Five,
The Last Poets,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fatback Band,
The Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-102,
Lucky Dragons,
Royal Trux,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerri Chandler,
Eric Copeland,
Aswad,
Jeru the Damaja,
Anthony Braxton,
Swans,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.