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 Australia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ossler to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Leonard Cohen,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gladiators,
Minnie Riperton,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
The Index,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hashim,
Chris & Cosey,
the Swans,
Joy Division,
Depeche Mode,
The Offenders,
Ice-T,
The New Christs,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers,
Urselle,
Brass Construction,
Unwound,
Rakim,
The Moody Blues,
Alphaville,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tomorrow,
Ultravox,
The Residents,
Erasure,
Electric Prunes,
Basic Channel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Metal Thangz,
Essential Logic,
The Kinks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tres Demented,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sound,
Grauzone,
The Smoke,
Cal Tjader,
Loose Ends,
Anthony Braxton,
Siglo XX,
Pussy Galore,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
L. Decosne,
Suburban Knight,
The Fugs,
Man Parrish,
The Gun Club,
Con Funk Shun,
Aaron Thompson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Black Dice,
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.