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 Kiribati and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin 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 James Chance & The Contortions 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore,
Nirvana,
David Axelrod,
Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
The Last Poets,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Bourne,
Index,
Toni Rubio,
The Fuzztones,
Al Stewart,
Dave Gahan,
Drexciya,
Davy DMX,
Reagan Youth,
Monolake,
Derrick May,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
OOIOO,
Stiv Bators,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Anakelly,
Suicide,
Chris & Cosey,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Althea and Donna,
Susan Cadogan,
Subhumans,
The Monochrome Set,
It's A Beautiful Day,
David McCallum,
Silicon Teens,
Jeru the Damaja,
Qualms,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker,
Angry Samoans,
Wally Richardson,
Jacques Brel,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Johnny Osbourne,
The American Breed,
Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Archie Shepp,
Connie Case,
Liliput,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed,
Lower 48,
Khruangbin,
Panda Bear,
Marc Almond,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.