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 Sweden and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Sixth Finger to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Interpol,
Al Stewart,
Fear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Max Romeo,
Althea and Donna,
Barbara Tucker,
the Bar-Kays,
Aswad,
OOIOO,
The Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gabor Szabo,
Duran Duran,
Oblivians,
Bill Wells,
Khruangbin,
The Neon Judgement,
Sister Nancy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lucky Dragons,
Mantronix,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liliput,
Harmonia,
Pole,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slits,
Henry Cow,
Sällskapet,
The Mojo Men,
The Real Kids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Intrusion,
Moebius,
Nick Fraelich,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
The Red Krayola,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalo Schifrin,
Index,
Organ,
Girls At Our Best!,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
Don Cherry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sixth Finger,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
B.T. Express,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Angels of Light,
Kas Product,
The J.B.'s,
Kenny Larkin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joey Negro,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.