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 Ghana and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Brothers Johnson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Scott Walker,
Q and Not U,
Accadde A,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Monochrome Set,
Sonic Youth,
Hoover,
Bobby Womack,
Smog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The New Christs,
Visage,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Motions,
The Smiths,
The Kinks,
Todd Rundgren,
Technova,
Mark Hollis,
L. Decosne,
Tres Demented,
Excepter,
Fatback Band,
OOIOO,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Almond,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
Black Flag,
Liliput,
The Doobie Brothers,
Archie Shepp,
Y Pants,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Symarip,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nirvana,
Maleditus Sound,
Magazine,
Echospace,
Minutemen,
Suicide,
Sister Nancy,
Siglo XX,
Kas Product,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Chrome,
Wire,
Tomorrow,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pantytec,
Moss Icon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.