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 Papua New Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Shuggie Otis to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Mad Mike,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Misunderstood,
Second Layer,
Absolute Body Control,
The Moleskins,
The Standells,
Faraquet,
Sixth Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
Aswad,
Animal Collective,
Chrome,
Main Source,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dead Boys,
Don Cherry,
Guru Guru,
the Sonics,
Faust,
The Gladiators,
EPMD,
Trumans Water,
Scion,
Albert Ayler,
UT,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter and Kerry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Althea and Donna,
Funkadelic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fuzztones,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Techniques,
The Birthday Party,
Qualms,
Rekid,
Visage,
Wasted Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
Liliput,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Chris Corsano,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiopuhelimet,
Juan Atkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Clear Light,
Banda Bassotti,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.