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 Colombia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 Brothers Johnson to the techno 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Max Romeo,
A Certain Ratio,
DJ Style,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
Glenn Branca,
Moby Grape,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Moleskins,
Bang On A Can,
cv313,
The Evens,
Bronski Beat,
The Star Department,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
Model 500,
The Sound,
Accadde A,
Swans,
One Last Wish,
Monolake,
Sandy B,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Toasters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Standells,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Jeff Lynne,
Eve St. Jones,
Amazonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Alison Limerick,
Gabor Szabo,
The Busters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Misunderstood,
Scratch Acid,
Eddi Front,
Blancmange,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Can,
Dennis Brown,
Stetsasonic,
Angry Samoans,
Half Japanese,
Joy Division,
Soft Cell,
kango's stein massive,
The Divine Comedy,
48th St. Collective,
The Litter,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABC,
The Vogues,
Cameo,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.