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 Slovenia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Pharoah Sanders to the dance 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fela Kuti,
Livin' Joy,
Harmonia,
The Music Machine,
Quadrant,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Idris Muhammad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brand Nubian,
Massinfluence,
Boredoms,
U.S. Maple,
Con Funk Shun,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sam Rivers,
Second Layer,
Neil Young,
Arab on Radar,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minutemen,
Joyce Sims,
Donny Hathaway,
Crime,
Popol Vuh,
Groovy Waters,
Warren Ellis,
Gong,
John Holt,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Names,
The Evens,
The Monochrome Set,
Nico,
a-ha,
Gang Green,
In Retrospect,
Nik Kershaw,
Sarah Menescal,
Fear,
Rapeman,
cv313,
Skaos,
The Dead C,
Organ,
Tom Boy,
Moss Icon,
John Foxx,
Althea and Donna,
the Slits,
MC5,
Reagan Youth,
Ituana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blossom Toes,
Morten Harket,
FM Einheit,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monolake,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.