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 Vanuatu and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soul II Soul to the grunge 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Bobby Byrd,
Minutemen,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Rites of Spring,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultra Naté,
The Raincoats,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gories,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Womack,
Dual Sessions,
Black Pus,
Groovy Waters,
10cc,
The Names,
The New Christs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Suicide,
Crash Course in Science,
Donny Hathaway,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Almond,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skriet,
John Lydon,
The Pop Group,
June of 44,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Janne Schatter,
Godley & Creme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harmonia,
Crooked Eye,
Oblivians,
The American Breed,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Teasers,
The Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Agent Orange,
Thee Headcoats,
Goldenarms,
The Misunderstood,
Siglo XX,
Danielle Patucci,
Swell Maps,
Bootsy Collins,
The Human League,
Television Personalities,
Rotary Connection,
Procol Harum,
Gang of Four,
the Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.