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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Faraquet 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stereo Dub,
Colin Newman,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Reed,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Accadde A,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joensuu 1685,
Cybotron,
L. Decosne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fatback Band,
a-ha,
Schoolly D,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doors,
the Fania All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Wells,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Zapp,
The Searchers,
Barrington Levy,
Rekid,
World's Most,
The New Christs,
Eden Ahbez,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
Gabor Szabo,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
B.T. Express,
Hasil Adkins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dead Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
The Angels of Light,
X-102,
Crash Course in Science,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vainqueur,
Minor Threat,
Technova,
Marine Girls,
The Young Rascals,
The Busters,
Pulsallama,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.