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 Djibouti and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Zeros to the funk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
the Slits,
Erasure,
Marine Girls,
Moss Icon,
DNA,
Rites of Spring,
Guru Guru,
Fear,
Unrelated Segments,
Dawn Penn,
Ohio Players,
The Pop Group,
Jandek,
10cc,
Sarah Menescal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Grass Roots,
Siglo XX,
Oneida,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fela Kuti,
Faust,
Scion,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Television Personalities,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fad Gadget,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blackbyrds,
Nico,
The Victims,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
KRS-One,
The Motions,
Royal Trux,
Slave,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Joe Smooth,
Lyres,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
B.T. Express,
Alphaville,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Normal,
Man Parrish,
The Slits,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore,
LL Cool J,
Yazoo,
Cecil Taylor,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.