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 Micronesia and from Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Raincoats,
Aloha Tigers,
The Misunderstood,
The American Breed,
Pagans,
Amon Düül II,
The Zeros,
Susan Cadogan,
Organ,
Von Mondo,
The Smiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Swans,
Brick,
Sixth Finger,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Make Up,
X-101,
Banda Bassotti,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
Mission of Burma,
Mars,
Camouflage,
Alison Limerick,
Pierre Henry,
The Cowsills,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Human League,
Au Pairs,
Bootsy Collins,
Althea and Donna,
Gerry Rafferty,
Funky Four + One,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Pop Group,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantaleimon,
Depeche Mode,
Morten Harket,
kango's stein massive,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Clarke,
Heaven 17,
Man Parrish,
Cecil Taylor,
The Monochrome Set,
Junior Murvin,
Liliput,
The Fall,
Maurizio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Iggy Pop,
Bush Tetras,
Dark Day,
Black Moon,
Magma,
Cameo,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.