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 Syria and from Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Donny Hathaway to the punk 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Negative Approach,
Loose Ends,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scrapy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-Ray Spex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grauzone,
Darondo,
Mantronix,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
Bootsy Collins,
Cluster,
Wasted Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smoke,
Camberwell Now,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Make Up,
Barrington Levy,
The Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Interpol,
Moby Grape,
Black Sheep,
The Cramps,
Roxette,
Tim Buckley,
Simply Red,
Ludus,
Connie Case,
Siglo XX,
Arthur Verocai,
Cecil Taylor,
Spoonie Gee,
Dennis Brown,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nas,
Gang Starr,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kurtis Blow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scan 7,
Quadrant,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Don Cherry,
Robert Hood,
Dual Sessions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.