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 Hungary and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe 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 Howard Jones to the jazz 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Adolescents,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Basic Channel,
The Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
Depeche Mode,
Guru Guru,
Von Mondo,
Eddi Front,
Nas,
Bill Near,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Invisible,
Dead Boys,
Tres Demented,
The Moleskins,
Hasil Adkins,
The J.B.'s,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aural Exciters,
Cal Tjader,
Goldenarms,
Royal Trux,
Average White Band,
Gichy Dan,
Roxy Music,
Los Fastidios,
Unwound,
Charles Mingus,
Nick Fraelich,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scion,
The Barracudas,
Symarip,
The Misunderstood,
Swans,
Don Cherry,
Robert Hood,
Neu!,
Bronski Beat,
EPMD,
Cameo,
Altered Images,
the Germs,
The Leaves,
Sällskapet,
Con Funk Shun,
Fat Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Lower 48,
Masters at Work,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms,
Al Stewart,
Fela Kuti,
The Cure,
June of 44,
Harmonia,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.