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 Cameroon and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Marcia Griffiths to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
John Foxx,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
Banda Bassotti,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ten City,
Index,
Black Pus,
The Velvet Underground,
Erasure,
Steve Hackett,
Massinfluence,
MC5,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Al Stewart,
Ludus,
Delta 5,
Sister Nancy,
Oblivians,
David Bowie,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mo-Dettes,
Simply Red,
Bang On A Can,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fire Engines,
Organ,
Lou Reed,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Qualms,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Birthday Party,
Public Image Ltd.,
Monolake,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Womack,
The Dirtbombs,
Andrew Hill,
Vainqueur,
Black Moon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crooked Eye,
Toni Rubio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fuzztones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
The Dead C,
U.S. Maple,
Sandy B,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
H. Thieme,
This Heat,
Neu!,
Marc Almond,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.