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 Malta and from Columbus.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Donald Fagen 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 Quantec to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cluster,
Fort Wilson Riot,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jawbox,
Mantronix,
Tommy Roe,
Lalann,
The Smoke,
Y Pants,
The Five Americans,
Erasure,
The Names,
Rotary Connection,
The Young Rascals,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Real Kids,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
The Zeros,
The Fugs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Donny Hathaway,
Graham Central Station,
Trumans Water,
Nirvana,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donald Byrd,
Moby Grape,
MDC,
Arthur Verocai,
Clear Light,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronan,
Eric B and Rakim,
L. Decosne,
Godley & Creme,
Sam Rivers,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
The Residents,
The Toasters,
Stetsasonic,
Animal Collective,
Marine Girls,
Tom Boy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pussy Galore,
Carl Craig,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.