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 Mexico and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Masters at Work to the electroclash 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Thee Headcoats,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minny Pops,
Flipper,
Carl Craig,
Mr. Review,
Kas Product,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ponytail,
Warsaw,
Juan Atkins,
Television Personalities,
48th St. Collective,
Drexciya,
X-101,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantytec,
Wally Richardson,
Roxy Music,
Sonic Youth,
The Litter,
Hardrive,
Joensuu 1685,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
the Germs,
Loose Ends,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slave,
Goldenarms,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
Royal Trux,
cv313,
Rotary Connection,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kenny Larkin,
Porter Ricks,
Negative Approach,
Magma,
Jacob Miller,
Steve Hackett,
Funky Four + One,
The Selecter,
Sugar Minott,
Zapp,
Patti Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Offenders,
Scientists,
Excepter,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.