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 Nigeria and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Porter Ricks to the techno 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Womack,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Slackers,
The Martian,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joe Smooth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Supertramp,
T.S.O.L.,
Banda Bassotti,
Stiv Bators,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Swans,
In Retrospect,
Marine Girls,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Halsall,
Clear Light,
Joy Division,
Al Stewart,
T. Rex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Funky Four + One,
Shuggie Otis,
Au Pairs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minnie Riperton,
Bronski Beat,
Popol Vuh,
the Bar-Kays,
Deepchord,
Organ,
Theoretical Girls,
Drexciya,
Erasure,
Derrick May,
The Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
Index,
Dennis Brown,
Swell Maps,
Eve St. Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Essential Logic,
Niagra,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Toasters,
Mad Mike,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tommy Roe,
Idris Muhammad,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.