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 Laos and from Columbus.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Angels of Light to the jazz 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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Minor Threat,
June Days,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minny Pops,
Gang Green,
Second Layer,
Nik Kershaw,
Faust,
Bill Near,
The Gap Band,
cv313,
Johnny Osbourne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alison Limerick,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Style,
Drexciya,
Hashim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joy Division,
Nico,
KRS-One,
Unwound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra,
Derrick May,
Albert Ayler,
Barbara Tucker,
Chris & Cosey,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Sonics,
Public Enemy,
Nils Olav,
Kool Moe Dee,
Excepter,
Lakeside,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Wire,
Roxette,
David Bowie,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
Cluster,
Negative Approach,
Reagan Youth,
The Cowsills,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
Scientists,
Icehouse,
Heaven 17,
Morten Harket,
Ronnie Foster,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.