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 South Sudan and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Mojo Men to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The Skatalites,
Josef K,
Lightning Bolt,
Derrick May,
Mr. Review,
Chris Corsano,
Spandau Ballet,
the Association,
Fela Kuti,
Warren Ellis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Absolute Body Control,
Wire,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Germs,
June of 44,
The Offenders,
These Immortal Souls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cecil Taylor,
Infiniti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Charles Mingus,
Icehouse,
Anakelly,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gladiators,
Hot Snakes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed,
Procol Harum,
JFA,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scott Walker,
Ituana,
Drexciya,
Sparks,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nirvana,
Faust,
Althea and Donna,
Grey Daturas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
D'Angelo,
Black Sheep,
kango's stein massive,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deepchord,
New Order,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Moon,
Joensuu 1685,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Panda Bear,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.