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 New Zealand and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 The Human League to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gichy Dan,
DNA,
Eve St. Jones,
Urselle,
Blake Baxter,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Agitation Free,
The Skatalites,
Index,
These Immortal Souls,
Crash Course in Science,
Lucky Dragons,
The Searchers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The American Breed,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Reed,
Bush Tetras,
Lindisfarne,
MDC,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy,
The Buckinghams,
Godley & Creme,
Quadrant,
Electric Prunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Sherman,
Schoolly D,
Sugar Minott,
Janne Schatter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
Y Pants,
Severed Heads,
Crime,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
Con Funk Shun,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Faraquet,
The Golliwogs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Howard Jones,
Barry Ungar,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Theoretical Girls,
The Star Department,
Dawn Penn,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agent Orange,
The Young Rascals,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.