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 Gambia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minnie Riperton to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Slick Rick,
Ten City,
Skaos,
Funky Four + One,
R.M.O.,
Hasil Adkins,
Visage,
Das Ding,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonic Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
Sex Pistols,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Matthew Halsall,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wire,
Laurel Aitken,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Lynne,
10cc,
Swans,
The Stooges,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Foxx,
Eve St. Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bauhaus,
Ossler,
Alphaville,
FM Einheit,
Donald Byrd,
Unwound,
The Blues Magoos,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
Sight & Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hardrive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lakeside,
Peter & Gordon,
Stiv Bators,
CMW,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
Tommy Roe,
Pantytec,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiohead,
The Smiths,
Agent Orange,
One Last Wish,
Agitation Free,
Harry Pussy,
Procol Harum,
Theoretical Girls,
David Axelrod,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.