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 Honduras and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jeru the Damaja to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
H. Thieme,
The Invisible,
New York Dolls,
Warren Ellis,
The Mummies,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doors,
Flipper,
Easy Going,
The Real Kids,
Robert Görl,
Terry Callier,
Agent Orange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kas Product,
the Bar-Kays,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Hutcherson,
K-Klass,
Joey Negro,
The Gap Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Das Ding,
June of 44,
Spoonie Gee,
Scrapy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Supertramp,
Stockholm Monsters,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
CMW,
Excepter,
Roxette,
Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Lynne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stiv Bators,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Au Pairs,
Procol Harum,
PIL,
Barry Ungar,
Kenny Larkin,
Interpol,
Gang Green,
Bad Manners,
Popol Vuh,
Cecil Taylor,
Max Romeo,
Pussy Galore,
Surgeon,
Sister Nancy,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.