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 Zimbabwe and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Qualms to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Smoke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lightning Bolt,
Brass Construction,
Laurel Aitken,
Fela Kuti,
Darondo,
UT,
The Monks,
Half Japanese,
Lungfish,
Kerri Chandler,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Juan Atkins,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric Dolphy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Music Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
Blossom Toes,
Wasted Youth,
A Certain Ratio,
Henry Cow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maleditus Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chrome,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cheater Slicks,
World's Most,
MDC,
Don Cherry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Shuggie Otis,
Faraquet,
Motorama,
The Gories,
Sixth Finger,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joy Division,
Andrew Hill,
Altered Images,
Negative Approach,
New York Dolls,
Joensuu 1685,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Steve Hackett,
The American Breed,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Smooth,
Ituana,
Moebius,
Franke,
Brick,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.