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 Mongolia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the funk 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Fatback Band,
Delta 5,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ice-T,
the Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wasted Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arcadia,
Sound Behaviour,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Stiv Bators,
Lower 48,
Susan Cadogan,
Heaven 17,
The Wake,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bill Wells,
The Associates,
Sun Ra,
Sonic Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tomorrow,
The Mojo Men,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Bang On A Can,
Vladislav Delay,
The Angels of Light,
Newcleus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marvin Gaye,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Amon Düül II,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Duran Duran,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Camberwell Now,
PIL,
Nirvana,
Anakelly,
The Evens,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Leaves,
Chrome,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.