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 East Timor and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Throbbing Gristle to the disco 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yazoo,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantytec,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
Parry Music,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Skatalites,
Excepter,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Cell,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Real Kids,
Ultra Naté,
Zapp,
The Wake,
Siglo XX,
Wasted Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
Mad Mike,
The Gories,
Oneida,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris Corsano,
Josef K,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brick,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Christie,
Fela Kuti,
Moebius,
Royal Trux,
Donny Hathaway,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Khruangbin,
China Crisis,
Rod Modell,
kango's stein massive,
One Last Wish,
June of 44,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Drexciya,
Dave Gahan,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Gong,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kaleidoscope,
Rekid,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Durutti Column,
Von Mondo,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.