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 Philippines and from London.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
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 harpsichord 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 Rapeman to the crunk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Pole,
Moby Grape,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dawn Penn,
Ronnie Foster,
Oneida,
Crispian St. Peters,
PIL,
Robert Hood,
Erykah Badu,
The Count Five,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Freddie Wadling,
Fela Kuti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Faust,
Surgeon,
Basic Channel,
Nik Kershaw,
Sex Pistols,
Skriet,
Rapeman,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nick Fraelich,
Adolescents,
Bluetip,
Half Japanese,
Zero Boys,
K-Klass,
Glambeats Corp.,
Excepter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kenny Larkin,
Ludus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Con Funk Shun,
Sparks,
The Raincoats,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed,
Au Pairs,
Steve Hackett,
Young Marble Giants,
Ituana,
Lou Christie,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Magma,
Spoonie Gee,
Letta Mbulu,
The Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drexciya,
Little Man,
Oblivians,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Circle Jerks,
The United States of America,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.