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 El Salvador and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fela Kuti to the techno 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Sister Nancy,
Chrome,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Near,
Aaron Thompson,
Audionom,
Sexual Harrassment,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kurtis Blow,
Howard Jones,
The Fall,
The Cowsills,
Mission of Burma,
Black Pus,
Fad Gadget,
DNA,
The Dave Clark Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Depeche Mode,
Guru Guru,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Misunderstood,
T. Rex,
Circle Jerks,
Funky Four + One,
Soft Machine,
Robert Hood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
LL Cool J,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wings,
Marmalade,
Boogie Down Productions,
DJ Sneak,
Basic Channel,
Lakeside,
Suburban Knight,
Tom Boy,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soul Sonic Force,
Surgeon,
Mandrill,
The Young Rascals,
David McCallum,
48th St. Collective,
Magma,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
Delta 5,
Eli Mardock,
Half Japanese,
Robert Görl,
Tim Buckley,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
The Knickerbockers,
Freddie Wadling,
the Slits,
Dawn Penn,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.