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 Ireland and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tommy Roe to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
The Blues Magoos,
F. McDonald,
the Human League,
The Blackbyrds,
UT,
The Names,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Eurythmics,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gladiators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Altered Images,
Grauzone,
The Five Americans,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
Whodini,
Johnny Clarke,
Ohio Players,
Little Man,
The Divine Comedy,
Kas Product,
Television Personalities,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cheater Slicks,
Byron Stingily,
Monks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Smog,
The Martian,
June of 44,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wasted Youth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mark Hollis,
Can,
Agent Orange,
Tres Demented,
Outsiders,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marvin Gaye,
Patti Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
ABBA,
Rekid,
The Fortunes,
The American Breed,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Trojans,
The Zeros,
Aaron Thompson,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.