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 Brazil and from Shanghai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Marmalade to the techno 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
E-Dancer,
Pylon,
Jandek,
The Martian,
Jeff Lynne,
Anakelly,
Talk Talk,
Marcia Griffiths,
Delta 5,
Excepter,
Oneida,
Kayak,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mars,
The Searchers,
Ossler,
Faraquet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bronski Beat,
Tubeway Army,
Darondo,
The Happenings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
Don Cherry,
Angry Samoans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-102,
David Bowie,
Intrusion,
The Blues Magoos,
Mantronix,
The Last Poets,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric Copeland,
Aloha Tigers,
Guru Guru,
David Axelrod,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Graham Central Station,
10cc,
Rosa Yemen,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Victims,
Connie Case,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Isaac Hayes,
Patti Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.