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 Singapore and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb 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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Hardrive,
The Neon Judgement,
Soft Machine,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
Goldenarms,
Skriet,
L. Decosne,
Con Funk Shun,
the Soft Cell,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Interpol,
Gabor Szabo,
Qualms,
Boredoms,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Carl Craig,
Josef K,
Urselle,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Juan Atkins,
Graham Central Station,
Thee Headcoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Tears for Fears,
The Human League,
Swell Maps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Black Dice,
Peter & Gordon,
Henry Cow,
Schoolly D,
Marine Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harmonia,
the Human League,
D'Angelo,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Brand Nubian,
John Holt,
Radiohead,
The Gun Club,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ohio Players,
Soulsonic Force,
Peter and Kerry,
Marcia Griffiths,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.