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 Kuwait and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sandy B to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacob Miller,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Blues Magoos,
Joyce Sims,
Pylon,
Stiv Bators,
Groovy Waters,
Wasted Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Rod Modell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nik Kershaw,
Pantytec,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Seeds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Youth Brigade,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Hood,
Robert Wyatt,
Bush Tetras,
Fad Gadget,
Judy Mowatt,
Rekid,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sandy B,
Dawn Penn,
Rufus Thomas,
PIL,
Godley & Creme,
kango's stein massive,
The United States of America,
The American Breed,
The Count Five,
Wire,
Scratch Acid,
Accadde A,
E-Dancer,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Index,
Scrapy,
Scientists,
Bronski Beat,
AZ,
MDC,
Circle Jerks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lungfish,
ABC,
Anakelly,
The Motions,
Black Moon,
The Skatalites,
Matthew Bourne,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxy Music,
Barrington Levy,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.