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 Burkina and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Vogues to the techno 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Kinks,
Buzzcocks,
Main Source,
Television Personalities,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacob Miller,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun City Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Victims,
Jandek,
T.S.O.L.,
Thee Headcoats,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
Dark Day,
Skarface,
Vainqueur,
DNA,
The Pop Group,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantaleimon,
Mr. Review,
Arcadia,
Chrome,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cure,
Black Pus,
Scrapy,
Panda Bear,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Amon Düül,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Moon,
Pulsallama,
The Monochrome Set,
The American Breed,
R.M.O.,
Sam Rivers,
LL Cool J,
Ice-T,
Roxy Music,
Ituana,
Bluetip,
Quadrant,
Unwound,
Circle Jerks,
Robert Görl,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Goldenarms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hardrive,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.