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 Guinea-Bissau and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 These Immortal Souls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Babytalk,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blancmange,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Leaves,
Lyres,
Roger Hodgson,
Pagans,
Anakelly,
Trumans Water,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Near,
Ornette Coleman,
The Smoke,
Unwound,
The Grass Roots,
Aloha Tigers,
The Misunderstood,
Matthew Bourne,
Nils Olav,
Crooked Eye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crash Course in Science,
Ituana,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Techniques,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxette,
Niagra,
Gang Starr,
B.T. Express,
Sparks,
The Kinks,
Brass Construction,
Bluetip,
Harmonia,
Cluster,
Steve Hackett,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lalann,
PIL,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stiv Bators,
Matthew Halsall,
Television,
The Invisible,
Letta Mbulu,
Fluxion,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pere Ubu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.