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 Japan and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
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 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 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 United States of America to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Rites of Spring,
Wings,
Qualms,
These Immortal Souls,
Janne Schatter,
Thompson Twins,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
Donny Hathaway,
Panda Bear,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
MDC,
Fugazi,
Patti Smith,
Sister Nancy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Desert Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Susan Cadogan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dead C,
Mark Hollis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dave Gahan,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Bourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Scion,
Nils Olav,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Trojans,
Jerry's Kids,
Franke,
Parry Music,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Swell Maps,
The Litter,
Don Cherry,
Basic Channel,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Bush Tetras,
The Shadows of Knight,
CMW,
Slick Rick,
Duran Duran,
kango's stein massive,
The Real Kids,
The Pop Group,
The Neon Judgement,
Quantec,
Brand Nubian,
The Seeds,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.