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 Somalia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobby Byrd to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gun Club,
Charles Mingus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
Niagra,
The Cure,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Popol Vuh,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pagans,
Stereo Dub,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
Erasure,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol,
The Gories,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Skaos,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-102,
Kenny Larkin,
Spoonie Gee,
Judy Mowatt,
The Pretty Things,
Connie Case,
Eli Mardock,
Ludus,
Cecil Taylor,
Juan Atkins,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Wells,
Youth Brigade,
Howard Jones,
Pere Ubu,
Tres Demented,
John Holt,
Thee Headcoats,
Half Japanese,
Carl Craig,
Alton Ellis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cluster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
World's Most,
Sun Ra,
Leonard Cohen,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
Nas,
Ice-T,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.