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 San Marino and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Crooked Eye to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pulsallama,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Associates,
The Sound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Grauzone,
The Cure,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ice-T,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Chris & Cosey,
Mo-Dettes,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
Mad Mike,
X-102,
Livin' Joy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Depeche Mode,
The Victims,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Patti Smith,
Arcadia,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Hill,
T. Rex,
Erykah Badu,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pylon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Toasters,
Sandy B,
Crash Course in Science,
Maurizio,
Cymande,
Con Funk Shun,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gladiators,
Visage,
Fat Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Index,
Make Up,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jandek,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monolake,
Black Bananas,
Tom Boy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Liliput,
Aaron Thompson,
Swans,
Tommy Roe,
Arthur Verocai,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.