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 Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
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 oboe 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the grime 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Franke,
Gong,
Monolake,
The Five Americans,
Rhythm & Sound,
B.T. Express,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare,
Johnny Osbourne,
Todd Terry,
Moss Icon,
Maleditus Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
Prince Buster,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dave Gahan,
Barry Ungar,
Ultra Naté,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Black Dice,
The Fugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Grass Roots,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Count Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dead Boys,
Main Source,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scratch Acid,
The Residents,
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stereo Dub,
Eli Mardock,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
Bronski Beat,
Qualms,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thompson Twins,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Human League,
Niagra,
Steve Hackett,
Nico,
LL Cool J,
Glambeats Corp.,
Warsaw,
Urselle,
Bluetip,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.