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 Turkmenistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Ten City,
Joe Finger,
Eve St. Jones,
Ossler,
Ludus,
Interpol,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Golliwogs,
The Sonics,
The Index,
Skriet,
UT,
Altered Images,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quantec,
Groovy Waters,
The Slackers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Near,
The American Breed,
The Blackbyrds,
Yellowson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harpers Bizarre,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Toasters,
Public Enemy,
Roxy Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
U.S. Maple,
Minnie Riperton,
Kaleidoscope,
Section 25,
Model 500,
FM Einheit,
Moebius,
Sister Nancy,
A Certain Ratio,
Scrapy,
Dave Gahan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kayak,
The Sound,
Heaven 17,
Babytalk,
The Birthday Party,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lower 48,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radiopuhelimet,
La Düsseldorf,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soft Cell,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.