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 Belarus and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 Cecil Taylor to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
the Bar-Kays,
Make Up,
Ituana,
Dawn Penn,
Rufus Thomas,
The Five Americans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
E-Dancer,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wolf Eyes,
Suburban Knight,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Peter and Kerry,
The Standells,
Jeff Lynne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marvin Gaye,
L. Decosne,
The Beau Brummels,
Drive Like Jehu,
T.S.O.L.,
The Happenings,
Big Daddy Kane,
Zapp,
Main Source,
Brick,
Neu!,
Cymande,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Das Ding,
Janne Schatter,
Y Pants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Scrapy,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Music Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Ultravox,
Danielle Patucci,
Yellowson,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Techniques,
The Dirtbombs,
Cal Tjader,
Rapeman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pagans,
Babytalk,
Vladislav Delay,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
The Sound,
the Normal,
Hasil Adkins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anakelly,
Audionom,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.