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 Andorra and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Shuggie Otis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camouflage,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
The Black Dice,
John Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Sneak,
Buzzcocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Silicon Teens,
Brand Nubian,
Bronski Beat,
Can,
Zapp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roxette,
Lucky Dragons,
Marvin Gaye,
Rod Modell,
Mark Hollis,
Agent Orange,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The United States of America,
The Martian,
Patti Smith,
The Happenings,
Q and Not U,
The Blues Magoos,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
Morten Harket,
E-Dancer,
Crime,
The Walker Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
Nils Olav,
The Seeds,
Scion,
T. Rex,
The Mojo Men,
Yaz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jandek,
Kurtis Blow,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
Fear,
The Saints,
Toni Rubio,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.