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 Dominica and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Thee Headcoats to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
David Bowie,
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Gang Green,
Underground Resistance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
U.S. Maple,
Kayak,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Aswad,
The Young Rascals,
Minutemen,
Pierre Henry,
Monolake,
Joe Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Pagans,
X-Ray Spex,
Josef K,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABBA,
Dawn Penn,
Swans,
Eli Mardock,
Q65,
X-102,
Duran Duran,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cure,
The Remains,
Urselle,
The Golliwogs,
The Velvet Underground,
CMW,
Pantytec,
John Cale,
Wasted Youth,
Grey Daturas,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra,
Bauhaus,
Rites of Spring,
E-Dancer,
Slave,
Eddi Front,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quando Quango,
Scion,
Andrew Hill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
LL Cool J,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ten City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flash Fearless,
The Red Krayola,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blackbyrds,
Slick Rick,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.