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 Kuwait and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Amon Düül to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Dark Day,
The Barracudas,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Unwound,
Marine Girls,
Essential Logic,
Jawbox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
Peter and Kerry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Busters,
Kayak,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Slackers,
Jacques Brel,
Crash Course in Science,
T. Rex,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Copeland,
Man Parrish,
The Victims,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
Oblivians,
The Litter,
Fatback Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
U.S. Maple,
John Cale,
Zapp,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Christie,
The Fugs,
Ludus,
Niagra,
Idris Muhammad,
Model 500,
Skaos,
Unrelated Segments,
The Music Machine,
Ronan,
The Black Dice,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ultra Naté,
Archie Shepp,
Scan 7,
the Association,
Lower 48,
Siglo XX,
Khruangbin,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Slave,
The Raincoats,
Roxy Music,
The Dirtbombs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.