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 Lebanon and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Howard Jones to the techno 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cowsills,
Sister Nancy,
E-Dancer,
The Sonics,
Heaven 17,
Babytalk,
Althea and Donna,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bush Tetras,
Kas Product,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Green,
AZ,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Donald Byrd,
Pylon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tears for Fears,
Smog,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crooked Eye,
Joyce Sims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camouflage,
The Gun Club,
China Crisis,
The Black Dice,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Ten City,
June Days,
Moss Icon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Newcleus,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Franke,
Nirvana,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Saccharine Trust,
The Beau Brummels,
John Holt,
Robert Hood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Average White Band,
Agent Orange,
Black Pus,
The Divine Comedy,
Scientists,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Near,
Bang On A Can,
Severed Heads,
Soft Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.