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 Mexico and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sister Nancy,
Lucky Dragons,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Slits,
Cybotron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soft Cell,
Chris Corsano,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Moby Grape,
Ronan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
The Tremeloes,
Dennis Brown,
Youth Brigade,
H. Thieme,
AZ,
A Certain Ratio,
Marmalade,
The Names,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Beasts of Bourbon,
These Immortal Souls,
Malaria!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Michelle Simonal,
Reuben Wilson,
Hot Snakes,
Moss Icon,
Arthur Verocai,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gichy Dan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Barracudas,
Stetsasonic,
Q65,
48th St. Collective,
Connie Case,
LL Cool J,
Outsiders,
Rufus Thomas,
Accadde A,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Saints,
Sight & Sound,
the Normal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minutemen,
Deepchord,
Eden Ahbez,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.