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 Cuba and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wally Richardson to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Cal Tjader,
Drive Like Jehu,
Steve Hackett,
Dark Day,
Joe Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Lakeside,
Pussy Galore,
Prince Buster,
Jacob Miller,
Brass Construction,
Spoonie Gee,
the Association,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yusef Lateef,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gichy Dan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mary Jane Girls,
Second Layer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nation of Ulysses,
Technova,
Sexual Harrassment,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jawbox,
Slave,
a-ha,
Connie Case,
Deakin,
Banda Bassotti,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eli Mardock,
Isaac Hayes,
Andrew Hill,
Visage,
Eric B and Rakim,
Icehouse,
Blancmange,
Liliput,
Marc Almond,
Qualms,
The Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Janne Schatter,
The Fortunes,
The Moody Blues,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry,
Sarah Menescal,
A Flock of Seagulls,
MC5,
Bang On A Can,
Radiohead,
The Saints,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.