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 Venezuela and from London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Wake to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Suicide,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Delon & Dalcan,
Donald Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Ultra Naté,
The Invisible,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
Los Fastidios,
Reuben Wilson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Agent Orange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Wyatt,
Aswad,
Drexciya,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mars,
Camouflage,
The Real Kids,
Eli Mardock,
The Toasters,
These Immortal Souls,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sound Behaviour,
Tommy Roe,
Joy Division,
Quantec,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Organ,
The Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Buzzcocks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skriet,
Cal Tjader,
Todd Rundgren,
K-Klass,
Sister Nancy,
Rekid,
Brand Nubian,
Bad Manners,
Peter and Kerry,
Siglo XX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Don Cherry,
The Fuzztones,
Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hoover,
Skarface,
Matthew Bourne,
The Standells,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.