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 Mongolia and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum 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 Lalann to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rapeman,
The Five Americans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magazine,
Oneida,
Darondo,
Lucky Dragons,
L. Decosne,
Porter Ricks,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Qualms,
The Neon Judgement,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fugazi,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Girls At Our Best!,
Faust,
The Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
Brass Construction,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
Fort Wilson Riot,
CMW,
Bill Wells,
Crooked Eye,
Monolake,
Morten Harket,
Mars,
Bobby Sherman,
Visage,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Womack,
Flash Fearless,
Monks,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül,
David Axelrod,
Bad Manners,
China Crisis,
Prince Buster,
Altered Images,
Con Funk Shun,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stetsasonic,
Suburban Knight,
Stereo Dub,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Electric Prunes,
Aaron Thompson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neu!,
the Slits,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.