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 Ivory Coast and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roger Hodgson to the rock 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Neu!,
48th St. Collective,
OOIOO,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
June Days,
The Wake,
The Martian,
Oblivians,
The Count Five,
Yusef Lateef,
Swans,
Second Layer,
Smog,
Bush Tetras,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lucky Dragons,
Japan,
The Gun Club,
Audionom,
Erykah Badu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rapeman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Starr,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Rekid,
Maurizio,
Glenn Branca,
Barbara Tucker,
Khruangbin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jandek,
Organ,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Style,
The Sound,
Magma,
Unwound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thee Headcoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mandrill,
Camberwell Now,
Steve Hackett,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amazonics,
R.M.O.,
Maleditus Sound,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liliput,
The Human League,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.