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 Bhutan and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Donald Fagen 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 Gregory Isaacs to the crunk 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Gladiators,
E-Dancer,
Patti Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Bad Manners,
Underground Resistance,
Supertramp,
Janne Schatter,
48th St. Collective,
Joensuu 1685,
Jacques Brel,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
Blake Baxter,
Drexciya,
The Happenings,
Mark Hollis,
The Grass Roots,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Index,
Crash Course in Science,
The Leaves,
L. Decosne,
Suicide,
Sight & Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Smog,
Rakim,
Panda Bear,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bob Dylan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
UT,
KRS-One,
Blossom Toes,
Boredoms,
Loose Ends,
The Gap Band,
Altered Images,
Buzzcocks,
Malaria!,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sparks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dual Sessions,
Dark Day,
The Cowsills,
Suburban Knight,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Five Americans,
Roger Hodgson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.