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 United Kingdom and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Walker Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
EPMD,
Pussy Galore,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Cale,
In Retrospect,
The Modern Lovers,
Accadde A,
Heaven 17,
Sandy B,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deepchord,
The Mummies,
Todd Rundgren,
Barry Ungar,
Nico,
Sister Nancy,
Parry Music,
Rosa Yemen,
Minny Pops,
Alphaville,
Deakin,
Dave Gahan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
Slick Rick,
Lakeside,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
The Barracudas,
Blake Baxter,
Pulsallama,
Interpol,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moss Icon,
Royal Trux,
kango's stein massive,
Gang Starr,
Rapeman,
Matthew Bourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tubeway Army,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Roxy Music,
Scrapy,
Visage,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Crooked Eye,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Wells,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marine Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Youth Brigade,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.