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 Mongolia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scrapy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Babytalk,
Trumans Water,
The Monks,
Skriet,
Theoretical Girls,
Rakim,
The Saints,
Scott Walker,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pantytec,
Main Source,
Eli Mardock,
Brand Nubian,
Loose Ends,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joy Division,
Dual Sessions,
Bad Manners,
Robert Wyatt,
Kas Product,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Qualms,
James White and The Blacks,
Josef K,
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Franke,
Can,
Q and Not U,
Matthew Halsall,
Charles Mingus,
Metal Thangz,
The Invisible,
The Black Dice,
Harmonia,
The New Christs,
the Germs,
Model 500,
The Associates,
Cheater Slicks,
Junior Murvin,
Jawbox,
Robert Görl,
The Beau Brummels,
Joensuu 1685,
H. Thieme,
Tomorrow,
June of 44,
10cc,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fear,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dead Boys,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.