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 South Sudan and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Radio Birdman to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Glambeats Corp.,
Funkadelic,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Bananas,
Agitation Free,
Kas Product,
Roy Ayers,
The Cowsills,
The Fortunes,
Steve Hackett,
Soul II Soul,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aural Exciters,
Delta 5,
Easy Going,
Janne Schatter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Parry Music,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sound,
LL Cool J,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
The Skatalites,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Masters at Work,
The Selecter,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wire,
The Remains,
Lalo Schifrin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeff Lynne,
Crime,
Idris Muhammad,
Cybotron,
Bluetip,
Erasure,
Nils Olav,
MC5,
Roxy Music,
Hashim,
The Slackers,
The Litter,
Patti Smith,
Infiniti,
Dead Boys,
Derrick May,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Byrd,
Wings,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bill Wells,
Popol Vuh,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.