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 Nepal and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Swans to the techno 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Foxx,
The Moleskins,
Deakin,
Negative Approach,
Roger Hodgson,
Fatback Band,
The Gladiators,
The Birthday Party,
Gichy Dan,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Laurel Aitken,
Iggy Pop,
Gang of Four,
Accadde A,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marine Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
cv313,
Basic Channel,
Metal Thangz,
ABBA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sunsets and Hearts,
John Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Martian,
Gang Starr,
Crime,
Jandek,
Masters at Work,
Brick,
Alice Coltrane,
June Days,
Pussy Galore,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Buckinghams,
EPMD,
Sun Ra,
a-ha,
Main Source,
Joe Smooth,
Bang On A Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Pet Shop Boys,
In Retrospect,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gap Band,
Pulsallama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Depeche Mode,
Scott Walker,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.