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 Uzbekistan and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Robert Wyatt to the rock 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joy Division,
8 Eyed Spy,
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masters at Work,
Camouflage,
Erykah Badu,
Erasure,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sonics,
Andrew Hill,
Symarip,
Nas,
Amazonics,
Howard Jones,
Black Flag,
Cecil Taylor,
Ornette Coleman,
the Germs,
Rites of Spring,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grauzone,
Alphaville,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
Cameo,
F. McDonald,
Essential Logic,
The J.B.'s,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deakin,
Rosa Yemen,
The Human League,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Todd Rundgren,
Ronan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Crime,
Amon Düül,
Absolute Body Control,
This Heat,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Hasil Adkins,
The Zeros,
New Age Steppers,
Infiniti,
Toni Rubio,
Hashim,
Mantronix,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faust,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angry Samoans,
The Motions,
James White and The Blacks,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.