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 Djibouti and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Mr. Review to the rap 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Black Moon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sunsets and Hearts,
T. Rex,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marmalade,
Rapeman,
Lakeside,
Deepchord,
Agitation Free,
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
Fat Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Man Parrish,
Tomorrow,
Michelle Simonal,
Blossom Toes,
Whodini,
R.M.O.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Prince Buster,
Supertramp,
The Sonics,
The Birthday Party,
June Days,
Joy Division,
David Bowie,
London Community Gospel Choir,
X-101,
Amon Düül II,
KRS-One,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television Personalities,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Faust,
Model 500,
Minor Threat,
Sound Behaviour,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
Main Source,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rekid,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kerri Chandler,
Sixth Finger,
Bill Near,
Jeff Lynne,
Lungfish,
Charles Mingus,
The Misunderstood,
The Young Rascals,
Tres Demented,
kango's stein massive,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.