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 Andorra and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
Mars,
Neu!,
A Certain Ratio,
Liliput,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pole,
Kurtis Blow,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fortunes,
Saccharine Trust,
8 Eyed Spy,
ABC,
New Age Steppers,
Slick Rick,
Jacob Miller,
Blossom Toes,
Chris Corsano,
Mo-Dettes,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
Y Pants,
Matthew Bourne,
The Star Department,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hot Snakes,
The Selecter,
The Residents,
Monks,
Sixth Finger,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rekid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dave Gahan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
Groovy Waters,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
MC5,
Visage,
Amon Düül II,
The New Christs,
Arcadia,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Christie,
Section 25,
Pantytec,
the Bar-Kays,
Gong,
Japan,
Radiohead,
Sister Nancy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joe Finger,
Cluster,
Freddie Wadling,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.