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 Kazakhstan and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Kinks to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Delta 5,
Metal Thangz,
The Real Kids,
the Association,
The Leaves,
Suburban Knight,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tubeway Army,
The Tremeloes,
Scion,
Silicon Teens,
Boredoms,
Niagra,
Warren Ellis,
Oblivians,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Neon Judgement,
Dave Gahan,
John Lydon,
The Smiths,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Franke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Evens,
Kevin Saunderson,
Steve Hackett,
Suicide,
Symarip,
Nas,
Pole,
Man Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Motions,
FM Einheit,
Eurythmics,
the Normal,
Bronski Beat,
David McCallum,
Soft Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joey Negro,
Deadbeat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Banda Bassotti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Quadrant,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerrie Biddell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fat Boys,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans,
The Sonics,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.