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 Jamaica and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the grunge 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tim Buckley,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Wake,
the Soft Cell,
Boredoms,
Kaleidoscope,
Motorama,
Amon Düül,
Faraquet,
Gabor Szabo,
F. McDonald,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brand Nubian,
Japan,
Archie Shepp,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Glenn Branca,
Masters at Work,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wally Richardson,
B.T. Express,
These Immortal Souls,
Chris & Cosey,
The Invisible,
Mr. Review,
Lower 48,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry's Kids,
8 Eyed Spy,
Howard Jones,
John Coltrane,
the Slits,
Los Fastidios,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Franke,
Country Teasers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Absolute Body Control,
Eddi Front,
Faust,
Carl Craig,
Jandek,
The Grass Roots,
Kas Product,
Marine Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tom Boy,
The Cure,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
One Last Wish,
The Walker Brothers,
E-Dancer,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scan 7,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators,
The Misunderstood,
Radiohead,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.