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 Micronesia and from Woodstock.
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 Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Sugar Minott to the disco 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Searchers,
New Order,
Scott Walker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eli Mardock,
The Victims,
John Foxx,
Derrick May,
The Beau Brummels,
Steve Hackett,
Pere Ubu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hardrive,
Livin' Joy,
Sparks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Darondo,
Procol Harum,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep,
Kas Product,
The J.B.'s,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Doors,
Kayak,
Whodini,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Near,
Von Mondo,
The Motions,
Albert Ayler,
These Immortal Souls,
Scientists,
The Slits,
DNA,
Wings,
The Move,
Television Personalities,
Adolescents,
Blossom Toes,
Neu!,
The Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young,
Mantronix,
Ludus,
The Gap Band,
Alton Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thee Headcoats,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minor Threat,
Aaron Thompson,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.