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 Slovenia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 Scan 7 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
The Selecter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faust,
Bauhaus,
Blossom Toes,
Intrusion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
World's Most,
Wings,
Barry Ungar,
The Slits,
Bad Manners,
The Searchers,
Moby Grape,
Scan 7,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Desert Stars,
Rotary Connection,
Eurythmics,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultravox,
Alison Limerick,
Jacob Miller,
Stereo Dub,
Slick Rick,
Eric Copeland,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
Agent Orange,
Electric Prunes,
Quando Quango,
Tomorrow,
Underground Resistance,
Suburban Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Howard Jones,
Minnie Riperton,
the Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Prince Buster,
The Names,
Public Enemy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ten City,
Skarface,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mummies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fad Gadget,
Metal Thangz,
Echospace,
Arcadia,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aaron Thompson,
AZ,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.