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 Bhutan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Robert Palmer 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 ABBA to the punk 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Bob Dylan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Metal Thangz,
D'Angelo,
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rapeman,
Simply Red,
Fugazi,
Robert Wyatt,
ABC,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oblivians,
Reuben Wilson,
EPMD,
Whodini,
Derrick May,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Reed,
Marshall Jefferson,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Lungfish,
The Cramps,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arthur Verocai,
Yazoo,
OOIOO,
Silicon Teens,
The Sound,
Unwound,
The Gories,
Kool Moe Dee,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Lynne,
The Pretty Things,
Pylon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Monochrome Set,
H. Thieme,
Isaac Hayes,
Outsiders,
Fad Gadget,
Little Man,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Schoolly D,
The Angels of Light,
Icehouse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Eating Sloth,
Make Up,
Maleditus Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scrapy,
Ossler,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick Morgan,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.