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 Mauritius and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Real Kids to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sound,
Rekid,
The Blackbyrds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reuben Wilson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radiohead,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Vladislav Delay,
H. Thieme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Evens,
Skriet,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smiths,
Funkadelic,
Lakeside,
Marvin Gaye,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
Graham Central Station,
Camouflage,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Blues Magoos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Country Teasers,
Maurizio,
cv313,
John Foxx,
Ronan,
Hot Snakes,
Ten City,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slits,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kayak,
Bush Tetras,
Ken Boothe,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Residents,
Tubeway Army,
Davy DMX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Subhumans,
Jawbox,
Adolescents,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Invisible,
Sonic Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Bar-Kays,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
Ultravox,
Nirvana,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.