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 Mauritania and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Lou Reed 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 crunk 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Al Stewart,
Eden Ahbez,
Organ,
Scion,
Ronan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deakin,
Sonic Youth,
David Axelrod,
Los Fastidios,
Oneida,
The Blues Magoos,
Half Japanese,
Television Personalities,
Gang Green,
Peter and Kerry,
Barbara Tucker,
Grauzone,
Aswad,
Minutemen,
The Golliwogs,
Gang of Four,
Sex Pistols,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker,
Absolute Body Control,
Laurel Aitken,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Starr,
One Last Wish,
Wally Richardson,
Cameo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Young Marble Giants,
The Buckinghams,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Motorama,
Harry Pussy,
Boredoms,
Dark Day,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
The Gladiators,
Stockholm Monsters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faraquet,
Soul II Soul,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
The Associates,
Con Funk Shun,
Fear,
Terry Callier,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.