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 Switzerland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hot Snakes to the electroclash 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Anthony Braxton,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mark Hollis,
The Leaves,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
The Remains,
Kerri Chandler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Slave,
Mr. Review,
Oneida,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bluetip,
Flash Fearless,
Blossom Toes,
Lyres,
Jeff Mills,
Funkadelic,
Silicon Teens,
Thompson Twins,
Hoover,
Tom Boy,
Arcadia,
June Days,
Quantec,
X-102,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Television Personalities,
Babytalk,
Japan,
The Zeros,
Marvin Gaye,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pharoah Sanders,
Boogie Down Productions,
Livin' Joy,
Wally Richardson,
La Düsseldorf,
Lightning Bolt,
Matthew Halsall,
In Retrospect,
The Martian,
The Wake,
Pet Shop Boys,
Smog,
Agitation Free,
Minor Threat,
Vainqueur,
the Germs,
Eurythmics,
Fad Gadget,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Bourne,
Grauzone,
New York Dolls,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.