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 Korea North and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Modern Lovers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Easy Going,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Japan,
Index,
Oblivians,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Warsaw,
Pierre Henry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
June of 44,
Banda Bassotti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rakim,
Tears for Fears,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bill Wells,
Theoretical Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Donny Hathaway,
Jawbox,
Kas Product,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Slick Rick,
Janne Schatter,
Surgeon,
Dawn Penn,
OOIOO,
The Evens,
The Durutti Column,
Alice Coltrane,
Massinfluence,
Magazine,
Royal Trux,
Cluster,
The Techniques,
Babytalk,
the Bar-Kays,
Basic Channel,
The Velvet Underground,
K-Klass,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ornette Coleman,
Sonic Youth,
F. McDonald,
Quantec,
Amon Düül,
Pantaleimon,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Martian,
48th St. Collective,
Crooked Eye,
Main Source,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Human League,
Matthew Halsall,
Saccharine Trust,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.