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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Public Enemy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Happenings,
Dark Day,
Whodini,
Pole,
Scott Walker,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
Royal Trux,
The Five Americans,
The Selecter,
Masters at Work,
Mars,
Alison Limerick,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Prunes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bauhaus,
The Moody Blues,
CMW,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ludus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minny Pops,
David Axelrod,
the Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
B.T. Express,
Trumans Water,
Spoonie Gee,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Alarm Clocks,
Faraquet,
Stetsasonic,
Subhumans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lungfish,
Patti Smith,
The Sound,
Colin Newman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
Fat Boys,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Carl Craig,
Marshall Jefferson,
Donny Hathaway,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Byrd,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Q and Not U,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kas Product,
Kaleidoscope,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.