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 Micronesia and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Vladislav Delay to the grime 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Patti Smith,
Fatback Band,
Faraquet,
Cecil Taylor,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
Sex Pistols,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Surgeon,
Essential Logic,
Matthew Halsall,
Stetsasonic,
Ultravox,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeff Mills,
Pulsallama,
Lucky Dragons,
John Holt,
Unwound,
The Associates,
Marine Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Funky Four + One,
the Swans,
Ornette Coleman,
Wasted Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Birthday Party,
Outsiders,
X-102,
Livin' Joy,
Mars,
Tom Boy,
Cameo,
Wolf Eyes,
Liliput,
The Fall,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Busters,
Cymande,
Maleditus Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Steve Hackett,
Funkadelic,
Scientists,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Index,
Siglo XX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
MDC,
The Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
48th St. Collective,
Sandy B,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.