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 Russia and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 The Moody Blues to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Charles Mingus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ornette Coleman,
Hashim,
Theoretical Girls,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
Gabor Szabo,
Cheater Slicks,
The Index,
Pulsallama,
PIL,
Inner City,
Minny Pops,
The Golliwogs,
Dark Day,
China Crisis,
Negative Approach,
Black Moon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eddi Front,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tres Demented,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Make Up,
Stetsasonic,
The Star Department,
Robert Hood,
Basic Channel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marvin Gaye,
Audionom,
Qualms,
Bill Near,
Grauzone,
Franke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dirtbombs,
Severed Heads,
Faust,
The Knickerbockers,
Easy Going,
Suicide,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minutemen,
Intrusion,
June of 44,
Jawbox,
Arcadia,
Terry Callier,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Christie,
Vladislav Delay,
Main Source,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.