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 Oman and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 Nico to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amazonics,
Joe Finger,
Drexciya,
Boz Scaggs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marine Girls,
Heaven 17,
The Walker Brothers,
the Swans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oneida,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quantec,
Outsiders,
EPMD,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Grass Roots,
Susan Cadogan,
Patti Smith,
U.S. Maple,
Country Joe & The Fish,
10cc,
Lower 48,
Aaron Thompson,
Flash Fearless,
The Cramps,
Neu!,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Little Man,
Max Romeo,
Cal Tjader,
Joy Division,
Joensuu 1685,
Alphaville,
Clear Light,
Barrington Levy,
Leonard Cohen,
Camberwell Now,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Selecter,
Anakelly,
UT,
Siglo XX,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cowsills,
Unrelated Segments,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Wells,
Black Flag,
Brothers Johnson,
Excepter,
Mars,
The Angels of Light,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.