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 Canada and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cluster to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Erasure,
K-Klass,
Agitation Free,
Altered Images,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monks,
Crime,
The Gladiators,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
In Retrospect,
the Germs,
T.S.O.L.,
Deepchord,
The Toasters,
Organ,
Gong,
Jacob Miller,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blackbyrds,
Talk Talk,
The Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Bananas,
Brand Nubian,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yusef Lateef,
Henry Cow,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fugs,
Man Parrish,
The Residents,
Mad Mike,
Newcleus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Iggy Pop,
Roxy Music,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quando Quango,
Hasil Adkins,
Basic Channel,
Scan 7,
Anakelly,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Graham Central Station,
Gichy Dan,
Television Personalities,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Visage,
EPMD,
Nation of Ulysses,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.