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 Djibouti and from Accra.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
New York Dolls,
R.M.O.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
World's Most,
Matthew Halsall,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Techniques,
Ken Boothe,
Joe Finger,
Icehouse,
Hot Snakes,
Zapp,
Pagans,
Juan Atkins,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Quantec,
The Toasters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cybotron,
Maurizio,
Cluster,
Ponytail,
the Slits,
KRS-One,
The Sonics,
Rekid,
Marine Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Franke,
Nils Olav,
Sound Behaviour,
Kas Product,
a-ha,
John Holt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Evens,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Outsiders,
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bluetip,
Unwound,
B.T. Express,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Names,
Andrew Hill,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flipper,
The Fall,
Saccharine Trust,
The Slits,
The Raincoats,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Christie,
Byron Stingily,
Nico,
The Smoke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.