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 East Timor and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Red Krayola to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Susan Cadogan,
Joey Negro,
L. Decosne,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dirtbombs,
Masters at Work,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blues Magoos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oblivians,
Toni Rubio,
Soulsonic Force,
Hardrive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
Stetsasonic,
Hoover,
Lalann,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
The Litter,
Groovy Waters,
Chris Corsano,
Whodini,
Sam Rivers,
The Gap Band,
Cymande,
Mad Mike,
Unrelated Segments,
U.S. Maple,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Qualms,
Y Pants,
Rekid,
Suburban Knight,
Excepter,
Tomorrow,
Pantytec,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül,
Icehouse,
Arab on Radar,
The Neon Judgement,
Niagra,
Procol Harum,
Camouflage,
Dennis Brown,
Davy DMX,
The Busters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Television Personalities,
Cal Tjader,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.