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 Dominican Republic and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Matthew Bourne to the crunk 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Neon Judgement,
Dave Gahan,
Suicide,
Faraquet,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gories,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blancmange,
Ultra Naté,
Jacques Brel,
Reagan Youth,
Lower 48,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
Joey Negro,
Hardrive,
cv313,
Lou Reed,
Bizarre Inc.,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
10cc,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
Gang of Four,
Minny Pops,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
Jawbox,
Lungfish,
Youth Brigade,
The Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
MDC,
Aswad,
Soul II Soul,
Make Up,
The Raincoats,
Wire,
Gang Starr,
Ten City,
MC5,
Traffic Nightmare,
Supertramp,
Wings,
Nils Olav,
The Doors,
Sex Pistols,
Letta Mbulu,
Second Layer,
Mad Mike,
Saccharine Trust,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Happenings,
DNA,
The Toasters,
John Coltrane,
World's Most,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers,
X-Ray Spex,
Brothers Johnson,
Quando Quango,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.