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 Ethiopia and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the crunk 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
the Germs,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Wyatt,
The Pop Group,
Reuben Wilson,
Fela Kuti,
Rotary Connection,
John Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Kinks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League,
David McCallum,
Cymande,
Dennis Brown,
The Invisible,
Con Funk Shun,
Chrome,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Normal,
Arab on Radar,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stetsasonic,
Rakim,
The Trojans,
The Moody Blues,
OOIOO,
The Durutti Column,
Kurtis Blow,
The Searchers,
The Birthday Party,
The Real Kids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultravox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bill Wells,
Soft Cell,
Anthony Braxton,
Cybotron,
Glenn Branca,
ABBA,
Hashim,
Buzzcocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dirtbombs,
Suburban Knight,
Infiniti,
Mission of Burma,
Thompson Twins,
Roger Hodgson,
The Slits,
Q and Not U,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Christie,
Darondo,
Iggy Pop,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.