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 Ethiopia and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the grunge 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
JFA,
The Black Dice,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
Excepter,
Q65,
Crooked Eye,
The Pretty Things,
Gabor Szabo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arcadia,
John Foxx,
Wasted Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Leaves,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
The Gories,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Faust,
Lightning Bolt,
K-Klass,
Brass Construction,
The Human League,
Amazonics,
DJ Style,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Todd Terry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
H. Thieme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Agent Orange,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arab on Radar,
Bad Manners,
Rufus Thomas,
Monolake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bill Near,
Joy Division,
The Victims,
Public Enemy,
This Heat,
The Kinks,
The Zeros,
Zapp,
The Slackers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Darondo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marshall Jefferson,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Maurizio,
Sight & Sound,
Livin' Joy,
June of 44,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.