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 Peru and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Ponytail to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minnie Riperton,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Byrd,
Nils Olav,
Technova,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Buckinghams,
Duran Duran,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
Deepchord,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joey Negro,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultra Naté,
EPMD,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Skatalites,
The Walker Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
Kenny Larkin,
Inner City,
Kayak,
Young Marble Giants,
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jawbox,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Busters,
Subhumans,
The Vogues,
Youth Brigade,
Saccharine Trust,
Harry Pussy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Japan,
The Dirtbombs,
Accadde A,
The Misunderstood,
Erasure,
Lightning Bolt,
The Pretty Things,
Kerri Chandler,
Barrington Levy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
Scrapy,
Stiv Bators,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.