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 Croatia and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Angry Samoans to the dance 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Intrusion,
Aural Exciters,
Gong,
David Bowie,
Gang Starr,
Mr. Review,
Schoolly D,
Scratch Acid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yellowson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
B.T. Express,
Faust,
Cameo,
Joyce Sims,
Funkadelic,
Glenn Branca,
Severed Heads,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Stiv Bators,
Chris & Cosey,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lightning Bolt,
DNA,
PIL,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
ABBA,
Ludus,
John Holt,
Audionom,
The Cure,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
Joe Smooth,
The Zeros,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Clarke,
Kas Product,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy Collins,
Maurizio,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Duran Duran,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deakin,
Eden Ahbez,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scan 7,
The Stooges,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.