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 El Salvador and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Matthew Bourne to the crunk 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Newcleus,
Whodini,
Outsiders,
Scan 7,
Smog,
Mr. Review,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Goldenarms,
Section 25,
The Gories,
The Five Americans,
Grey Daturas,
Hardrive,
Scientists,
DNA,
The Martian,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Motions,
Sister Nancy,
The J.B.'s,
Dave Gahan,
Symarip,
The Doors,
Zero Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Piero Umiliani,
Tomorrow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fela Kuti,
Livin' Joy,
Ituana,
Shoche,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bronski Beat,
Funkadelic,
Harmonia,
Franke,
Joe Finger,
Aaron Thompson,
Patti Smith,
Slave,
The Gap Band,
Moebius,
UT,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gladiators,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Todd Terry,
Inner City,
Sun Ra,
Metal Thangz,
The Trojans,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.