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 Guatemala and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Peter and Kerry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gong,
The Music Machine,
Terry Callier,
The Busters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Selecter,
Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
The Slackers,
The Happenings,
The Litter,
Q and Not U,
Pet Shop Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Pantaleimon,
The Real Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
Alison Limerick,
Eddi Front,
Piero Umiliani,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Velvet Underground,
the Sonics,
Laurel Aitken,
Scrapy,
Sandy B,
MDC,
MC5,
Stiv Bators,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bob Dylan,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultravox,
Mantronix,
Chris Corsano,
The Invisible,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kas Product,
Cluster,
Television Personalities,
Yaz,
Los Fastidios,
Siglo XX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funky Four + One,
The Raincoats,
Aswad,
Althea and Donna,
Letta Mbulu,
Das Ding,
Grauzone,
Blossom Toes,
The Divine Comedy,
Marmalade,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.