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 Solomon Islands and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Severed Heads 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Moleskins,
Patti Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Pagans,
The Wake,
The Vogues,
Man Parrish,
Negative Approach,
Moss Icon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dennis Brown,
Urselle,
Goldenarms,
Terry Callier,
Ossler,
Lee Hazlewood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Livin' Joy,
Deadbeat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Knickerbockers,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Osbourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Mantronix,
Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gong,
The Zeros,
Sixth Finger,
Sun Ra,
Connie Case,
The Evens,
Alison Limerick,
Soulsonic Force,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Davy DMX,
Adolescents,
Warren Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Jerry's Kids,
Monks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Black Dice,
Wolf Eyes,
June of 44,
Make Up,
Japan,
The Residents,
Los Fastidios,
Malaria!,
Joyce Sims,
John Foxx,
X-Ray Spex,
Neu!,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.