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 Pakistan and from Jakarta.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Josef K,
Aswad,
Byron Stingily,
Maleditus Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Motorama,
Hot Snakes,
The Happenings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ossler,
World's Most,
The Mummies,
Nik Kershaw,
Tom Boy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sex Pistols,
Y Pants,
Kurtis Blow,
Severed Heads,
DJ Style,
Iggy Pop,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scrapy,
the Slits,
Max Romeo,
DNA,
Saccharine Trust,
Prince Buster,
The Angels of Light,
Schoolly D,
The Busters,
The Searchers,
Hardrive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare,
Al Stewart,
Joe Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Darondo,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Au Pairs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultra Naté,
June of 44,
Fear,
Depeche Mode,
The Shadows of Knight,
Zapp,
Masters at Work,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Flag,
Interpol,
Circle Jerks,
Yusef Lateef,
Ken Boothe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sun Ra,
Organ,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.