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 Romania and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter & Gordon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Graham Central Station,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
JFA,
This Heat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kurtis Blow,
Sam Rivers,
One Last Wish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sex Pistols,
the Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Searchers,
Andrew Hill,
Pulsallama,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dennis Brown,
The Star Department,
Faraquet,
In Retrospect,
Sound Behaviour,
MC5,
Talk Talk,
New Age Steppers,
Althea and Donna,
Lakeside,
Flash Fearless,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Section 25,
Maleditus Sound,
Suicide,
The Blackbyrds,
Brand Nubian,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultra Naté,
June Days,
Gichy Dan,
Eve St. Jones,
Intrusion,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blancmange,
Basic Channel,
Dave Gahan,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eurythmics,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.