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 Mexico and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Judy Mowatt to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Isaac Hayes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dead Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Von Mondo,
Mark Hollis,
Depeche Mode,
Ronan,
Flamin' Groovies,
kango's stein massive,
Flash Fearless,
Marc Almond,
Janne Schatter,
Carl Craig,
Roy Ayers,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Green,
Blake Baxter,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
The Associates,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalann,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Supertramp,
The Monks,
Hashim,
Neu!,
Bluetip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Selecter,
This Heat,
Traffic Nightmare,
UT,
Matthew Bourne,
Rites of Spring,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris & Cosey,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mr. Review,
The Gories,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
Dark Day,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Al Stewart,
John Lydon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Funkadelic,
the Slits,
the Association,
The Victims,
Bizarre Inc.,
Anakelly,
Ice-T,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.