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 Qatar and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Tim Buckley to the jazz 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-101,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter and Kerry,
The Toasters,
Jandek,
AZ,
Archie Shepp,
Gang of Four,
Chrome,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Christie,
the Association,
Franke,
David Axelrod,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Suicide,
The New Christs,
Wings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skarface,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cluster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aaron Thompson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Black Dice,
X-102,
The Slits,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
U.S. Maple,
The Blackbyrds,
Rosa Yemen,
KRS-One,
Davy DMX,
Amazonics,
Sun City Girls,
The Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Real Kids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
Yaz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ten City,
Gil Scott Heron,
Steve Hackett,
Japan,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.