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 Mauritania and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sandy B to the rock 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deadbeat,
The Neon Judgement,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ludus,
Drexciya,
The Stooges,
Duran Duran,
Cybotron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Interpol,
The Trojans,
Byron Stingily,
MDC,
Das Ding,
Yazoo,
Alphaville,
Lebanon Hanover,
Panda Bear,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Byrd,
Amazonics,
Brick,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Invisible,
ABBA,
New Age Steppers,
Hardrive,
DJ Sneak,
H. Thieme,
Metal Thangz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grandmaster Flash,
Agitation Free,
Black Moon,
The Busters,
Godley & Creme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David Bowie,
Oneida,
June Days,
Black Pus,
Technova,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Görl,
The Gories,
Public Enemy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ken Boothe,
Monolake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eve St. Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
R.M.O.,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.