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 Madagascar and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jesper Dahlback to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Half Japanese,
Country Teasers,
Soft Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Newcleus,
The Blues Magoos,
This Heat,
Lakeside,
Bizarre Inc.,
Massinfluence,
The Knickerbockers,
Camberwell Now,
Young Marble Giants,
Audionom,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Main Source,
Joy Division,
The United States of America,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hasil Adkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Essential Logic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deepchord,
Marvin Gaye,
Slick Rick,
Eric Copeland,
The Wake,
Skarface,
Thompson Twins,
The Gun Club,
Blossom Toes,
The Trojans,
X-101,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Icehouse,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Little Man,
Ronan,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
EPMD,
Janne Schatter,
The Pop Group,
Japan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Livin' Joy,
Urselle,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sonic Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
Depeche Mode,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Moody Blues,
Henry Cow,
Prince Buster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.