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 Australia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Brass Construction to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
Arthur Verocai,
The Star Department,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
In Retrospect,
Roxette,
The Move,
UT,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Bizarre Inc.,
Royal Trux,
Rosa Yemen,
Max Romeo,
The Remains,
Carl Craig,
Leonard Cohen,
Gabor Szabo,
The Vogues,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scratch Acid,
Camberwell Now,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
Severed Heads,
Slave,
Mary Jane Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Piero Umiliani,
cv313,
Desert Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
The Blues Magoos,
the Sonics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Simply Red,
Blake Baxter,
Lindisfarne,
Matthew Halsall,
Technova,
The Sound,
Nils Olav,
Rites of Spring,
EPMD,
Black Pus,
Boz Scaggs,
Kas Product,
Quantec,
Crash Course in Science,
New Order,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Trojans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cymande,
Hot Snakes,
Suburban Knight,
The Moleskins,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.