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 Ukraine and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Piero Umiliani to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Prince Buster,
Malaria!,
Cluster,
MC5,
the Association,
Stereo Dub,
Siglo XX,
Pole,
Technova,
Lakeside,
Howard Jones,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
Mars,
The Red Krayola,
Shoche,
Mantronix,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
Slick Rick,
Crime,
Drexciya,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fatback Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cybotron,
Johnny Clarke,
The Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cheater Slicks,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brothers Johnson,
Dark Day,
Vainqueur,
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pretty Things,
Minor Threat,
Dual Sessions,
Franke,
Banda Bassotti,
Scan 7,
Agitation Free,
Procol Harum,
Brass Construction,
Main Source,
China Crisis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soft Cell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fugazi,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.