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 Slovakia and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Model 500 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tears for Fears,
MC5,
Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echospace,
Marine Girls,
Excepter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Barracudas,
Royal Trux,
X-101,
Tom Boy,
Marmalade,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Massinfluence,
Y Pants,
Mandrill,
Popol Vuh,
Peter & Gordon,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shuggie Otis,
Suicide,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxy Music,
Rosa Yemen,
Yellowson,
Interpol,
Cheater Slicks,
Ronan,
Maleditus Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Lydon,
Sugar Minott,
Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
Fela Kuti,
The Invisible,
Reagan Youth,
David Bowie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lebanon Hanover,
Con Funk Shun,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quadrant,
Davy DMX,
Television Personalities,
Sarah Menescal,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.