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 Vanuatu and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro 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 Animal Collective to the electroclash 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Porter Ricks,
Amon Düül II,
Depeche Mode,
Japan,
Anthony Braxton,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Finger,
Boredoms,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
The Smiths,
Saccharine Trust,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Sneak,
DJ Style,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deepchord,
Henry Cow,
The Victims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kool Moe Dee,
Simply Red,
Bluetip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doors,
a-ha,
Unwound,
Livin' Joy,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Bananas,
Jacques Brel,
John Cale,
Ludus,
Whodini,
The Seeds,
Jawbox,
Das Ding,
Pole,
Wings,
Section 25,
Ituana,
Iggy Pop,
UT,
The Grass Roots,
The Kinks,
Mo-Dettes,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wasted Youth,
Ice-T,
Sam Rivers,
Desert Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.