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 Angola and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Fugs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
New Order,
Reuben Wilson,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Morten Harket,
Bad Manners,
Second Layer,
EPMD,
Lalo Schifrin,
Delta 5,
The Smoke,
Unwound,
Ossler,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hasil Adkins,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Slits,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fortunes,
Fad Gadget,
Throbbing Gristle,
Depeche Mode,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Tim Buckley,
Ludus,
The Electric Prunes,
Iggy Pop,
Dual Sessions,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Unrelated Segments,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
Talk Talk,
One Last Wish,
Ultravox,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool Moe Dee,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Don Cherry,
The Dirtbombs,
Idris Muhammad,
Blake Baxter,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Index,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.