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 Nauru and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Leonard Cohen to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Mission of Burma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Visage,
Drexciya,
Popol Vuh,
Bizarre Inc.,
Accadde A,
Hardrive,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wings,
The Dead C,
Jeff Mills,
Rites of Spring,
Reuben Wilson,
Scientists,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Todd Terry,
Zapp,
Moby Grape,
Pylon,
Niagra,
Soul II Soul,
Ultimate Spinach,
Curtis Mayfield,
T.S.O.L.,
Letta Mbulu,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
Intrusion,
Q and Not U,
The Standells,
Rekid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Panda Bear,
Slick Rick,
Fear,
The Happenings,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABBA,
Magazine,
Ultra Naté,
Sarah Menescal,
Roxette,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ice-T,
Chris & Cosey,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Underground Resistance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.