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 Iran and from Jakarta.
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 Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Lou Reed 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 Porter Ricks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Pantytec,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Offenders,
Das Ding,
Kurtis Blow,
Accadde A,
Oblivians,
Young Marble Giants,
Brick,
The Real Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
This Heat,
Davy DMX,
Alton Ellis,
Joe Smooth,
10cc,
Eve St. Jones,
China Crisis,
Severed Heads,
Mantronix,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
FM Einheit,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Interpol,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soulsonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
Idris Muhammad,
Animal Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Yellowson,
Nas,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roger Hodgson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Delta 5,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
Wolf Eyes,
the Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
The Names,
Buzzcocks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Fat Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Fraelich,
Harry Pussy,
Spandau Ballet,
Barbara Tucker,
Arab on Radar,
T. Rex,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.