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 Lesotho and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 The Raincoats to the crunk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Ronan,
Brand Nubian,
Franke,
Thompson Twins,
Kas Product,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bluetip,
David Axelrod,
Dorothy Ashby,
Los Fastidios,
Fugazi,
Mark Hollis,
The Mojo Men,
Ronnie Foster,
Leonard Cohen,
The Selecter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
New Order,
Bronski Beat,
Tim Buckley,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rekid,
The Kinks,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
The Victims,
Ituana,
The Fortunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Newcleus,
Animal Collective,
Mad Mike,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moss Icon,
Moby Grape,
Grauzone,
Bush Tetras,
Chris Corsano,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Grass Roots,
The Divine Comedy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ludus,
a-ha,
Avey Tare,
Harry Pussy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Matthew Halsall,
Chrome,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Cybotron,
T. Rex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aural Exciters,
Godley & Creme,
This Heat,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.