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 Samoa and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the grime 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Happenings,
Gang Starr,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Funky Four + One,
The J.B.'s,
Harpers Bizarre,
LL Cool J,
Marvin Gaye,
The Divine Comedy,
Sam Rivers,
The Move,
Soulsonic Force,
John Foxx,
China Crisis,
The Music Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jacques Brel,
Blake Baxter,
the Human League,
Oneida,
Terry Callier,
Freddie Wadling,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alison Limerick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mr. Review,
Agitation Free,
Rapeman,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Niagra,
The Litter,
Young Marble Giants,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
Main Source,
Alton Ellis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Banda Bassotti,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fortunes,
Blossom Toes,
Monks,
Q65,
ABC,
Bill Wells,
Malaria!,
the Sonics,
Shoche,
The Seeds,
The Remains,
World's Most,
Sight & Sound,
H. Thieme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.