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 Nigeria 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hashim to the rap 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Ronnie Foster,
Stetsasonic,
the Sonics,
Lalann,
Japan,
Iggy Pop,
DJ Style,
Outsiders,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tommy Roe,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Starr,
Bill Wells,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ituana,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
Isaac Hayes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
H. Thieme,
Dawn Penn,
Radiohead,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Steve Hackett,
Dead Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
A Certain Ratio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Colin Newman,
The Wake,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flash Fearless,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
This Heat,
Joensuu 1685,
Marvin Gaye,
The Remains,
The Smoke,
The Velvet Underground,
Aural Exciters,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Jawbox,
Eric Copeland,
The Doors,
Brass Construction,
David McCallum,
The Sonics,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.