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 Mozambique and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Green to the punk 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cure,
Delta 5,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
The Stooges,
Cymande,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Aloha Tigers,
Terry Callier,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Womack,
AZ,
Judy Mowatt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
Infiniti,
Desert Stars,
CMW,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alphaville,
Gong,
Stiv Bators,
Youth Brigade,
June Days,
Technova,
Silicon Teens,
Crispian St. Peters,
Procol Harum,
Todd Terry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Subhumans,
Dual Sessions,
Magazine,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
Scan 7,
Mary Jane Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Leonard Cohen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fire Engines,
The Modern Lovers,
Swell Maps,
Zapp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Black Dice,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Moon,
JFA,
A Certain Ratio,
Spoonie Gee,
Sister Nancy,
Cluster,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring,
The Saints,
Brick,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.