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 Monaco and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 Brand Nubian 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Eric Copeland,
Tears for Fears,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grauzone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brick,
The Move,
Thompson Twins,
Ultra Naté,
MDC,
New York Dolls,
Tim Buckley,
John Cale,
This Heat,
Mad Mike,
Skriet,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Pantytec,
Frankie Knuckles,
Althea and Donna,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Public Enemy,
The Vogues,
Mantronix,
Nation of Ulysses,
10cc,
Moebius,
Yaz,
Desert Stars,
David Axelrod,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Almond,
Thee Headcoats,
Barry Ungar,
Grey Daturas,
Slave,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bronski Beat,
The Gladiators,
Buzzcocks,
Fat Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Agent Orange,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Red Krayola,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hasil Adkins,
JFA,
Pantaleimon,
Derrick Morgan,
Ohio Players,
Alton Ellis,
John Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.