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 Guinea-Bissau and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bauhaus to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
UT,
The Slackers,
Lebanon Hanover,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Slits,
The Litter,
Al Stewart,
David McCallum,
CMW,
Lou Reed,
the Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tres Demented,
The Dirtbombs,
Wally Richardson,
Blossom Toes,
The Real Kids,
Jandek,
Pantytec,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Swans,
Pole,
KRS-One,
New Age Steppers,
Rekid,
MC5,
Robert Görl,
David Axelrod,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Spoonie Gee,
Barry Ungar,
Michelle Simonal,
Soft Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
Sugar Minott,
Throbbing Gristle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monks,
Excepter,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Subhumans,
Nik Kershaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Grass Roots,
Organ,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fuzztones,
Infiniti,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gories,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gap Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faust,
Soulsonic Force,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.