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 Mongolia and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Robert Palmer 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 The Smoke to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Maurizio,
Kerri Chandler,
Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mark Hollis,
The Fuzztones,
The Residents,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Busters,
Iggy Pop,
Anthony Braxton,
Yellowson,
Clear Light,
Urselle,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Black Dice,
EPMD,
Grey Daturas,
Hashim,
Ohio Players,
John Cale,
Dawn Penn,
Rakim,
Letta Mbulu,
Marc Almond,
Joy Division,
The Star Department,
Half Japanese,
Oneida,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Count Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Neon Judgement,
Moby Grape,
The Knickerbockers,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
UT,
Khruangbin,
Charles Mingus,
Tim Buckley,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
Ossler,
Youth Brigade,
Television Personalities,
Sister Nancy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Pop Group,
Amon Düül II,
Outsiders,
The Cowsills,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.