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 Haiti and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar 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 Supertramp to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rod Modell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Prince Buster,
The Searchers,
Lalann,
The Walker Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
Absolute Body Control,
Judy Mowatt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kerri Chandler,
Rosa Yemen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stereo Dub,
Wolf Eyes,
One Last Wish,
Arthur Verocai,
Al Stewart,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dirtbombs,
Japan,
ABBA,
Loose Ends,
The Fortunes,
Tim Buckley,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris Corsano,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cure,
Funky Four + One,
Dawn Penn,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Khruangbin,
The Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The American Breed,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
Eric Dolphy,
Donald Byrd,
The Pretty Things,
Kurtis Blow,
Urselle,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Human League,
Niagra,
Sarah Menescal,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
June of 44,
Yellowson,
Derrick May,
Arcadia,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.