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 San Marino and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bad Manners to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Don Cherry,
Sam Rivers,
The Grass Roots,
Bob Dylan,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABBA,
The Gories,
Gastr Del Sol,
Theoretical Girls,
Fatback Band,
James White and The Blacks,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
the Slits,
Schoolly D,
The Doors,
Skriet,
Wally Richardson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Associates,
Monolake,
Marvin Gaye,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
Rekid,
Morten Harket,
Pussy Galore,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Y Pants,
The Fugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barbara Tucker,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Crash Course in Science,
K-Klass,
The Mummies,
The Birthday Party,
Cybotron,
Darondo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dave Gahan,
Franke,
Rotary Connection,
Sonic Youth,
Smog,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Womack,
Talk Talk,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Index,
Mars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faust,
Harpers Bizarre,
China Crisis,
The United States of America,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.