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 Eritrea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Howard Jones to the techno 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Rosa Yemen,
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hot Snakes,
Laurel Aitken,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cramps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Talk Talk,
MDC,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Basic Channel,
Wolf Eyes,
The Moleskins,
Malaria!,
F. McDonald,
Deadbeat,
Eddi Front,
Bill Near,
Letta Mbulu,
Schoolly D,
Sugar Minott,
Yellowson,
The Walker Brothers,
The Move,
The Human League,
Godley & Creme,
Mantronix,
Joe Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Certain Ratio,
Mars,
The Barracudas,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
AZ,
Shuggie Otis,
Visage,
PIL,
The Victims,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Pus,
Trumans Water,
The New Christs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Guru Guru,
Interpol,
Terry Callier,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gichy Dan,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.