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 Thailand 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Main Source to the techno 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Anakelly,
Funkadelic,
The United States of America,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
The Moleskins,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
PIL,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Flamin' Groovies,
Porter Ricks,
Eve St. Jones,
Spandau Ballet,
Interpol,
UT,
The Fall,
Thompson Twins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Guru Guru,
Tom Boy,
Isaac Hayes,
Inner City,
DJ Style,
Sugar Minott,
Cal Tjader,
Mr. Review,
Siglo XX,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Womack,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mojo Men,
the Normal,
The Walker Brothers,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Al Stewart,
Ponytail,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
The Happenings,
Junior Murvin,
Easy Going,
Fela Kuti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sam Rivers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Curtis Mayfield,
10cc,
Lightning Bolt,
Suburban Knight,
Q65,
Joyce Sims,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Urselle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.