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 Congo and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin 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 Model 500 to the rap 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Hardrive,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Subhumans,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats,
The Five Americans,
One Last Wish,
Idris Muhammad,
Eurythmics,
Flamin' Groovies,
Interpol,
Jeff Lynne,
Pagans,
Black Moon,
The Residents,
Khruangbin,
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lou Reed,
ABC,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Connie Case,
Kurtis Blow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
KRS-One,
Delta 5,
Liliput,
Glenn Branca,
Country Teasers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scan 7,
The Toasters,
Chris & Cosey,
Make Up,
Eden Ahbez,
Pole,
Zapp,
The Durutti Column,
Boredoms,
John Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quando Quango,
Piero Umiliani,
China Crisis,
Whodini,
The Standells,
Amon Düül,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare,
The J.B.'s,
Moebius,
Sugar Minott,
Arcadia,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.