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 Panama and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Yazoo to the rap 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Visage,
The Toasters,
Quantec,
X-102,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aswad,
The American Breed,
Janne Schatter,
Joe Smooth,
Sugar Minott,
Harry Pussy,
Bill Near,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mummies,
The Monks,
The Neon Judgement,
Joe Finger,
the Association,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Infiniti,
Fat Boys,
F. McDonald,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The New Christs,
Tres Demented,
The Blues Magoos,
Cybotron,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Womack,
Donald Byrd,
Don Cherry,
The Dirtbombs,
Scion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Almond,
Sound Behaviour,
Tropical Tobacco,
Half Japanese,
Bang On A Can,
June of 44,
Little Man,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Suicide,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slits,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Remains,
Jawbox,
The Grass Roots,
Marine Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Index,
Juan Atkins,
Eve St. Jones,
Metal Thangz,
Monks,
Patti Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
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.