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 South Sudan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Peter and Kerry to the grunge 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Marc Almond,
Bizarre Inc.,
OOIOO,
The Searchers,
Dual Sessions,
Juan Atkins,
Sarah Menescal,
Don Cherry,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Names,
Accadde A,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Sherman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Fraelich,
Piero Umiliani,
Adolescents,
Mars,
Laurel Aitken,
Susan Cadogan,
Matthew Halsall,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxy Music,
Public Enemy,
Minutemen,
Warsaw,
The Cramps,
Motorama,
Glenn Branca,
U.S. Maple,
Metal Thangz,
The Slits,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gories,
Gastr Del Sol,
Heaven 17,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donny Hathaway,
Kool Moe Dee,
Newcleus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Lynne,
The Leaves,
New Age Steppers,
The Neon Judgement,
Erykah Badu,
Scott Walker,
Yaz,
X-Ray Spex,
Radio Birdman,
the Normal,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Absolute Body Control,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fear,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Cure,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gabor Szabo,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fall,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.