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 Nauru and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 Yellowson to the electroclash 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Grauzone,
The Mojo Men,
Black Flag,
Absolute Body Control,
The Birthday Party,
Dave Gahan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magazine,
KRS-One,
Faraquet,
Altered Images,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ken Boothe,
Sixth Finger,
Television Personalities,
Marvin Gaye,
Banda Bassotti,
Carl Craig,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
D'Angelo,
Barrington Levy,
Michelle Simonal,
UT,
Max Romeo,
Pussy Galore,
Wally Richardson,
Tropical Tobacco,
These Immortal Souls,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Happenings,
Yaz,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
Nils Olav,
The Selecter,
the Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
Angry Samoans,
Popol Vuh,
David Bowie,
Tim Buckley,
Pantytec,
Suicide,
Funky Four + One,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra,
Sex Pistols,
The Stooges,
Byron Stingily,
Blancmange,
June of 44,
The Five Americans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.