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 Brunei and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Animal Collective,
Outsiders,
Scion,
Pussy Galore,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fad Gadget,
Moss Icon,
Thompson Twins,
Pere Ubu,
Newcleus,
China Crisis,
PIL,
Deepchord,
Radio Birdman,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
Absolute Body Control,
Slick Rick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Tremeloes,
The Saints,
Rites of Spring,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Laurel Aitken,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Glenn Branca,
Aswad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Boz Scaggs,
The Modern Lovers,
Circle Jerks,
The Dead C,
Marcia Griffiths,
Maleditus Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Desert Stars,
Marmalade,
Joe Smooth,
Soulsonic Force,
Cybotron,
Lyres,
Lalann,
Fugazi,
Joyce Sims,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Dennis Brown,
The Birthday Party,
Talk Talk,
The Gladiators,
The Trojans,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
The Index,
Matthew Halsall,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.