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 Fiji and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar 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 The United States of America to the dance 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Sandy B,
La Düsseldorf,
Clear Light,
Joe Finger,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dave Gahan,
ABBA,
Outsiders,
Neil Young,
Danielle Patucci,
Morten Harket,
the Germs,
The Cramps,
Yusef Lateef,
China Crisis,
Kaleidoscope,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lungfish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swell Maps,
Reuben Wilson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Grass Roots,
Marmalade,
Black Moon,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy Collins,
Liliput,
Max Romeo,
Maleditus Sound,
Altered Images,
The Moleskins,
The J.B.'s,
Mandrill,
Fela Kuti,
Spandau Ballet,
Crooked Eye,
Ultimate Spinach,
Agent Orange,
Judy Mowatt,
Guru Guru,
Nirvana,
The Martian,
Brass Construction,
Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
The Slackers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Model 500,
Faraquet,
Davy DMX,
Kevin Saunderson,
Can,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.