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 Cameroon and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Mary Jane Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smiths,
New Age Steppers,
Ten City,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Finger,
Lyres,
Kurtis Blow,
Jacques Brel,
The Fire Engines,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moby Grape,
Sister Nancy,
The Black Dice,
Yazoo,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ice-T,
Scrapy,
Donny Hathaway,
Matthew Halsall,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soft Machine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Piero Umiliani,
Newcleus,
The Skatalites,
The Residents,
Young Marble Giants,
B.T. Express,
Scion,
Ituana,
Gang of Four,
John Holt,
Monks,
Eurythmics,
Ronnie Foster,
Thompson Twins,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cowsills,
Junior Murvin,
Section 25,
The Searchers,
Scientists,
Wolf Eyes,
PIL,
Judy Mowatt,
Terry Callier,
Ronan,
Easy Going,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dave Clark Five,
Severed Heads,
Hoover,
Sällskapet,
Brothers Johnson,
Ornette Coleman,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.