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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Erasure to the disco 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
June of 44,
Morten Harket,
Ponytail,
Ultravox,
Pere Ubu,
Angry Samoans,
Silicon Teens,
Thompson Twins,
Severed Heads,
Negative Approach,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
Mad Mike,
Wire,
Jandek,
Anakelly,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
The Saints,
Q and Not U,
Bob Dylan,
Monolake,
EPMD,
Moss Icon,
The Music Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Kinks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Near,
The Slackers,
Scott Walker,
Godley & Creme,
Smog,
The Fuzztones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glenn Branca,
Dual Sessions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Y Pants,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Remains,
Das Ding,
The Invisible,
Isaac Hayes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Harry Pussy,
Country Teasers,
The Beau Brummels,
Delta 5,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
The Seeds,
Jerry's Kids,
Fat Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crime,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.