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 India and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dorothy Ashby to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
The Wake,
Bill Near,
Monks,
Mandrill,
This Heat,
The Invisible,
The Searchers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
R.M.O.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lyres,
Bluetip,
Gang Green,
Al Stewart,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boredoms,
Boz Scaggs,
Organ,
Hashim,
The Gladiators,
The Barracudas,
Neil Young,
Yellowson,
The Birthday Party,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantaleimon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Chrome,
Marvin Gaye,
The Seeds,
Outsiders,
K-Klass,
Aaron Thompson,
Minutemen,
Mars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dead Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul II Soul,
L. Decosne,
Pussy Galore,
Blossom Toes,
Rakim,
Maurizio,
a-ha,
Japan,
Roxette,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Erasure,
Slave,
X-102,
Electric Prunes,
Ohio Players,
Wings,
Pierre Henry,
the Association,
Scratch Acid,
DNA,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.