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 Papua New Guinea and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Susan Cadogan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Wasted Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Index,
Rod Modell,
Wire,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Womack,
Quadrant,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
New York Dolls,
Mark Hollis,
Intrusion,
Piero Umiliani,
Dead Boys,
The Trojans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Motions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yellowson,
Make Up,
The Sound,
Ohio Players,
the Soft Cell,
Newcleus,
Brothers Johnson,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Skatalites,
Junior Murvin,
Minutemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Neu!,
Agitation Free,
The Misunderstood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Anthony Braxton,
Nico,
Robert Görl,
Sixth Finger,
The Real Kids,
Judy Mowatt,
Oblivians,
Drexciya,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rapeman,
The Dead C,
KRS-One,
Country Teasers,
X-102,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grey Daturas,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Christie,
Excepter,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.