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 Gambia and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grunge 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mr. Review,
The Golliwogs,
John Coltrane,
Roxette,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fatback Band,
Newcleus,
The Sound,
Blake Baxter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
Peter & Gordon,
Sixth Finger,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Zapp,
Erasure,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
ABBA,
Depeche Mode,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fortunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
Organ,
Barbara Tucker,
Soul Sonic Force,
Altered Images,
Desert Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mojo Men,
Mandrill,
Buzzcocks,
The Residents,
Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
Jacob Miller,
Skriet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Moebius,
Tim Buckley,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Smog,
Warsaw,
Man Parrish,
Marine Girls,
Roxy Music,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Porter Ricks,
Popol Vuh,
Scratch Acid,
Aswad,
CMW,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter and Kerry,
Arcadia,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.