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 Montenegro and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Absolute Body Control to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Masters at Work,
The Stooges,
Fugazi,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dennis Brown,
Oblivians,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sight & Sound,
DNA,
Liliput,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fall,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
a-ha,
John Foxx,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sonics,
Monolake,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Moebius,
John Coltrane,
Make Up,
Grey Daturas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The J.B.'s,
Kool Moe Dee,
Symarip,
The Toasters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Henry Cow,
The Young Rascals,
The Litter,
Flash Fearless,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
Slave,
David McCallum,
Procol Harum,
Negative Approach,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sunsets and Hearts,
LL Cool J,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Velvet Underground,
The Raincoats,
Mr. Review,
The Seeds,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Birthday Party,
The Music Machine,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.