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 India and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
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 marimba 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the funk 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Technova,
Man Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Easy Going,
Pylon,
ABBA,
The Golliwogs,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Machine,
Pussy Galore,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Starr,
The Cure,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Symarip,
The Gun Club,
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
The J.B.'s,
Y Pants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deakin,
Electric Prunes,
Joe Finger,
The Durutti Column,
the Normal,
The Mojo Men,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oblivians,
The Gap Band,
Shoche,
Procol Harum,
Bill Near,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
The American Breed,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dead C,
Newcleus,
Hot Snakes,
Eli Mardock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Buckinghams,
Oneida,
Kerrie Biddell,
D'Angelo,
The Sound,
Neil Young,
The Five Americans,
the Slits,
Scan 7,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
Ten City,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fat Boys,
Gichy Dan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.