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 Argentina and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 Man Parrish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a marimba 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 organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Underground Resistance,
Simply Red,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
Stetsasonic,
Angry Samoans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Womack,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Coltrane,
Sam Rivers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Outsiders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Public Enemy,
The Walker Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxy Music,
Ronnie Foster,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Althea and Donna,
Hasil Adkins,
Marmalade,
Country Teasers,
The Gun Club,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cal Tjader,
Urselle,
Youth Brigade,
Wasted Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Lee Hazlewood,
Chrome,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slave,
DJ Style,
Ken Boothe,
Intrusion,
Scion,
The Motions,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aural Exciters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Man Parrish,
Pole,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Sherman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Martian,
Charles Mingus,
Surgeon,
Tears for Fears,
The Gladiators,
Swans,
MC5,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.