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 Brunei and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Thompson Twins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Circle Jerks,
This Heat,
Flipper,
Janne Schatter,
Organ,
Mr. Review,
Faust,
Marvin Gaye,
the Bar-Kays,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
La Düsseldorf,
the Association,
Massinfluence,
Graham Central Station,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fatback Band,
The Associates,
Lakeside,
Jawbox,
The Invisible,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nirvana,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Skriet,
Gang of Four,
Section 25,
These Immortal Souls,
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
B.T. Express,
Connie Case,
The Fuzztones,
Funky Four + One,
Cameo,
Index,
Quantec,
Aloha Tigers,
Lyres,
Scan 7,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
The Real Kids,
Duran Duran,
Skarface,
Man Parrish,
Scientists,
New Age Steppers,
The Gap Band,
Soft Machine,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Human League,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bob Dylan,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.