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 Tanzania and from London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Spoonie Gee to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
U.S. Maple,
The Young Rascals,
DJ Sneak,
Desert Stars,
Vainqueur,
Eli Mardock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Index,
David Axelrod,
Shoche,
Robert Hood,
The Detroit Cobras,
Motorama,
Minnie Riperton,
Urselle,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
The Fuzztones,
Ronan,
Terry Callier,
The Pop Group,
the Slits,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Womack,
James White and The Blacks,
Basic Channel,
Outsiders,
Tommy Roe,
The Seeds,
JFA,
The Toasters,
Fluxion,
Spoonie Gee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soft Cell,
Ten City,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Fraelich,
Massinfluence,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
Tres Demented,
June of 44,
The Gories,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Almond,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joensuu 1685,
Carl Craig,
Accadde A,
Jandek,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masters at Work,
The Gladiators,
Crime,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.