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 Vanuatu and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
the Swans,
Spandau Ballet,
Alphaville,
Derrick May,
New Order,
Sister Nancy,
Mandrill,
Charles Mingus,
Wally Richardson,
Mark Hollis,
Basic Channel,
The Walker Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Magazine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Make Up,
The Fuzztones,
Oblivians,
Cecil Taylor,
X-102,
Zero Boys,
Vainqueur,
In Retrospect,
John Cale,
LL Cool J,
Surgeon,
The Index,
Loose Ends,
Nation of Ulysses,
Qualms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
E-Dancer,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Zeros,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Slits,
Agitation Free,
K-Klass,
The Angels of Light,
Scientists,
Joe Finger,
Sixth Finger,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang On A Can,
The Remains,
Alton Ellis,
Kas Product,
The Gories,
Bobby Womack,
Accadde A,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sight & Sound,
L. Decosne,
Duran Duran,
The Buckinghams,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pere Ubu,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.