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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Au Pairs to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
the Swans,
The Golliwogs,
Cymande,
Yaz,
Interpol,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Sherman,
Icehouse,
Banda Bassotti,
Mars,
Scan 7,
Cheater Slicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Charles Mingus,
Nirvana,
Crooked Eye,
Easy Going,
Livin' Joy,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
New Age Steppers,
Lyres,
Nik Kershaw,
Das Ding,
The Pop Group,
Aural Exciters,
The Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joensuu 1685,
DJ Sneak,
Faraquet,
Blake Baxter,
H. Thieme,
Deakin,
Subhumans,
MDC,
Brass Construction,
Heaven 17,
The Dirtbombs,
Supertramp,
The Angels of Light,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quantec,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
EPMD,
Marshall Jefferson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
PIL,
The Martian,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Hutcherson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
This Heat,
Pierre Henry,
The American Breed,
The Gap Band,
Ohio Players,
Mantronix,
Jeff Lynne,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.