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 Austria and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Sun City Girls to the techno 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scion,
Buzzcocks,
K-Klass,
Matthew Halsall,
Iggy Pop,
Derrick May,
Shoche,
The Blues Magoos,
The Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Negative Approach,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wings,
The Count Five,
Chrome,
The United States of America,
OOIOO,
Eve St. Jones,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Slits,
Scrapy,
John Lydon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Popol Vuh,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wolf Eyes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Schoolly D,
Saccharine Trust,
Jandek,
Letta Mbulu,
Stiv Bators,
The Knickerbockers,
Model 500,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Dual Sessions,
Erasure,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blossom Toes,
Pole,
Yaz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Icehouse,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fatback Band,
Pagans,
The Human League,
Groovy Waters,
Ponytail,
The American Breed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
DNA,
Joe Smooth,
Guru Guru,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.