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 Luxembourg and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Surgeon to the punk 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Young Rascals,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faraquet,
Sandy B,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare,
Funkadelic,
Chrome,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soft Cell,
the Normal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Althea and Donna,
Eddi Front,
Goldenarms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
48th St. Collective,
Iggy Pop,
Fifty Foot Hose,
KRS-One,
Alice Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
Talk Talk,
Kas Product,
The Fuzztones,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dirtbombs,
The Angels of Light,
Skriet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scott Walker,
Arab on Radar,
John Foxx,
Gang Starr,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Susan Cadogan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minnie Riperton,
Thee Headcoats,
Animal Collective,
Mr. Review,
Echospace,
Deakin,
Cymande,
Erasure,
Charles Mingus,
Clear Light,
Mo-Dettes,
Ten City,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Sneak,
Brass Construction,
The Moody Blues,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flash Fearless,
Freddie Wadling,
Vainqueur,
Crash Course in Science,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.