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 Germany and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ 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 Sight & Sound to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Peter and Kerry,
Tim Buckley,
Pierre Henry,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dead C,
The Remains,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
Scratch Acid,
David McCallum,
Mandrill,
Liliput,
Scrapy,
Cameo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television Personalities,
Unwound,
Oblivians,
The New Christs,
DJ Sneak,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Busters,
Sparks,
Underground Resistance,
EPMD,
Connie Case,
Depeche Mode,
The Detroit Cobras,
Newcleus,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jandek,
The Last Poets,
Marmalade,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rekid,
Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joe Finger,
Au Pairs,
Minor Threat,
Brick,
Flipper,
Echospace,
Infiniti,
Oneida,
Gil Scott Heron,
Altered Images,
Graham Central Station,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cybotron,
Fat Boys,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.