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 Serbia and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer 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 The Searchers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delta 5,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Womack,
Arcadia,
Sällskapet,
Absolute Body Control,
Simply Red,
Reuben Wilson,
Scientists,
Crime,
Althea and Donna,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Age Steppers,
Stetsasonic,
Rites of Spring,
Connie Case,
Minnie Riperton,
Gabor Szabo,
The Durutti Column,
The American Breed,
Von Mondo,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Fat Boys,
the Germs,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pussy Galore,
DNA,
Joey Negro,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gap Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Parry Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
ABC,
These Immortal Souls,
Subhumans,
Cluster,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed,
Eurythmics,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare,
Nik Kershaw,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Association,
Moebius,
Rotary Connection,
Lou Christie,
Metal Thangz,
U.S. Maple,
Livin' Joy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.