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 Morocco and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thompson Twins,
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
The Red Krayola,
The Count Five,
The Happenings,
The Dirtbombs,
Soul II Soul,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones,
The Mojo Men,
Suicide,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mad Mike,
Jacques Brel,
Sugar Minott,
Los Fastidios,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cameo,
Ken Boothe,
Pere Ubu,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed,
Moss Icon,
Yellowson,
B.T. Express,
Aswad,
Adolescents,
The Sonics,
Television,
Mary Jane Girls,
Malaria!,
Nico,
The Fall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agent Orange,
Deepchord,
Neil Young,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The J.B.'s,
Pet Shop Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Sandy B,
OOIOO,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Human League,
Silicon Teens,
Eric B and Rakim,
Accadde A,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bob Dylan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sight & Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Babytalk,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.