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 Iraq and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 The Pop Group to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
The Gories,
Deadbeat,
The Fugs,
Ronnie Foster,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fuzztones,
Juan Atkins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minutemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Byron Stingily,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Schoolly D,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Techniques,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
Al Stewart,
New Order,
Loose Ends,
Sandy B,
The American Breed,
Con Funk Shun,
Barry Ungar,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shoche,
The Slackers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
The Gap Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Minny Pops,
The Slits,
The Cramps,
Rites of Spring,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Jeff Mills,
Faust,
Q and Not U,
Isaac Hayes,
The Music Machine,
Don Cherry,
Bad Manners,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Jandek,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agent Orange,
The Pretty Things,
The Black Dice,
Arthur Verocai,
Matthew Halsall,
Davy DMX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.