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 Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 marimba 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
The Black Dice,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mars,
The Associates,
Warsaw,
The Gun Club,
Magazine,
Underground Resistance,
The Smiths,
Black Bananas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cybotron,
ABBA,
Deakin,
Desert Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gladiators,
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Joy Division,
Brothers Johnson,
Symarip,
Stereo Dub,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cure,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
L. Decosne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Patti Smith,
Janne Schatter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Moon,
Blossom Toes,
Spandau Ballet,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Slits,
Mantronix,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Isaac Hayes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Khruangbin,
Dave Gahan,
The Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Eli Mardock,
Lightning Bolt,
FM Einheit,
Unwound,
Pantytec,
Deadbeat,
The Litter,
Television Personalities,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.