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 Botswana and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Blackbyrds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hardrive,
Derrick Morgan,
Warsaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
Young Marble Giants,
Icehouse,
Pierre Henry,
Minutemen,
Jeff Mills,
China Crisis,
Malaria!,
Gabor Szabo,
Symarip,
Chris Corsano,
KRS-One,
Nirvana,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Index,
Neu!,
10cc,
Tears for Fears,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
June of 44,
Yazoo,
Aswad,
Tubeway Army,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cramps,
The Busters,
Joy Division,
Hot Snakes,
The Fugs,
Gang Green,
The Velvet Underground,
Leonard Cohen,
Mars,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Cell,
Metal Thangz,
The Human League,
Easy Going,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker,
MC5,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lalann,
Wasted Youth,
Cymande,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.