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 Georgia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Curtis Mayfield to the jazz 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
Mandrill,
10cc,
Oblivians,
Siglo XX,
EPMD,
Country Teasers,
Audionom,
Scion,
The Leaves,
DNA,
The Monks,
The Modern Lovers,
Mantronix,
Motorama,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Residents,
Robert Görl,
Toni Rubio,
Gong,
Bad Manners,
The Buckinghams,
Excepter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fuzztones,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
Country Joe & The Fish,
48th St. Collective,
Au Pairs,
Section 25,
Mission of Burma,
The Offenders,
Hardrive,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Halsall,
Slave,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Public Enemy,
Lower 48,
Nico,
DJ Sneak,
Bang On A Can,
Patti Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Monks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Babytalk,
Procol Harum,
Black Moon,
Faraquet,
Jandek,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
Sällskapet,
Albert Ayler,
The Music Machine,
Funkadelic,
Groovy Waters,
The Motions,
the Association,
Agent Orange,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.