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 Bahrain and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Idris Muhammad to the grunge 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Red Krayola,
Pole,
Kerri Chandler,
T. Rex,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Leonard Cohen,
Deakin,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fire Engines,
The Durutti Column,
Supertramp,
Spoonie Gee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
Quantec,
Joy Division,
New York Dolls,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
the Soft Cell,
Rites of Spring,
Young Marble Giants,
The Beau Brummels,
Chris Corsano,
Easy Going,
Barclay James Harvest,
Albert Ayler,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
OOIOO,
Pylon,
Banda Bassotti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Germs,
The Barracudas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jawbox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Main Source,
Tres Demented,
David McCallum,
Magma,
Fat Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultravox,
Black Pus,
Shoche,
The Move,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.