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 Suriname 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Y Pants,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultravox,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Sound Behaviour,
Arcadia,
Laurel Aitken,
Liliput,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Funky Four + One,
Pantytec,
Kayak,
Glambeats Corp.,
Zero Boys,
Kas Product,
Roxette,
Donald Byrd,
Skaos,
Freddie Wadling,
Quando Quango,
June Days,
Bobby Womack,
Mr. Review,
MC5,
The Neon Judgement,
Aloha Tigers,
the Human League,
The Trojans,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Reed,
Supertramp,
Barrington Levy,
Jawbox,
Circle Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fad Gadget,
Clear Light,
KRS-One,
Saccharine Trust,
Arthur Verocai,
Suicide,
Morten Harket,
Ronan,
Ten City,
Scan 7,
the Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe,
Pole,
DJ Style,
Jeff Mills,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun Ra,
Harry Pussy,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.