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 Somalia and from Mumbai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator 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 Yaz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Donald Byrd,
John Coltrane,
Alphaville,
The Saints,
8 Eyed Spy,
Todd Rundgren,
Porter Ricks,
the Sonics,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
Heaven 17,
Jerry's Kids,
Accadde A,
Sugar Minott,
Vainqueur,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sex Pistols,
Sam Rivers,
Lakeside,
the Swans,
Scientists,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
Drexciya,
Dawn Penn,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Michelle Simonal,
F. McDonald,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tommy Roe,
Nas,
Lalo Schifrin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Echospace,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Skatalites,
The Stooges,
Marc Almond,
Newcleus,
EPMD,
Unrelated Segments,
The Moody Blues,
Max Romeo,
DJ Sneak,
Sun Ra,
Alice Coltrane,
The Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Pulsallama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fela Kuti,
Dennis Brown,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.