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 the UAE and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Malaria! to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
D'Angelo,
Quantec,
Rod Modell,
Patti Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
The Modern Lovers,
Half Japanese,
Rotary Connection,
The Fortunes,
Oneida,
The Skatalites,
Marine Girls,
Sight & Sound,
The Music Machine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Liliput,
MDC,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry's Kids,
Can,
Ronnie Foster,
Sixth Finger,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Andrew Hill,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
Agitation Free,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
John Holt,
The Move,
Sonic Youth,
The Moody Blues,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Doors,
Slick Rick,
Quando Quango,
Roxette,
Unwound,
Negative Approach,
Soft Cell,
The Evens,
Neu!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
China Crisis,
Wings,
The Fall,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Sherman,
Nirvana,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ohio Players,
The Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Birthday Party,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.