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 Bolivia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe 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 Suburban Knight to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
X-101,
D'Angelo,
Bootsy Collins,
The Red Krayola,
Television Personalities,
Siglo XX,
The Grass Roots,
The Blackbyrds,
Das Ding,
Colin Newman,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric B and Rakim,
Infiniti,
Shoche,
Yazoo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kaleidoscope,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rekid,
AZ,
The Gories,
Porter Ricks,
Organ,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deakin,
The Count Five,
Sandy B,
Susan Cadogan,
Crooked Eye,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skriet,
The Sonics,
Television,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jeff Lynne,
John Holt,
Quadrant,
Rosa Yemen,
Sound Behaviour,
Silicon Teens,
10cc,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Terry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantytec,
The Index,
Malaria!,
UT,
E-Dancer,
Delta 5,
cv313,
Massinfluence,
Arab on Radar,
Pussy Galore,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.