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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
The Toasters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tim Buckley,
Amon Düül II,
Fela Kuti,
The Doors,
The Smiths,
Pierre Henry,
The Dead C,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Porter Ricks,
Rod Modell,
Joensuu 1685,
In Retrospect,
James White and The Blacks,
the Slits,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Lynne,
Pylon,
UT,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Mo-Dettes,
Yaz,
Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Maleditus Sound,
China Crisis,
Average White Band,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Blake Baxter,
Jeff Mills,
Swell Maps,
Chris & Cosey,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Howard Jones,
Sam Rivers,
Symarip,
The American Breed,
Wire,
The Slits,
Terry Callier,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.