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 Swaziland and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Chrome to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soul II Soul,
Shoche,
Prince Buster,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
Spandau Ballet,
The Stooges,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ken Boothe,
Pere Ubu,
Simply Red,
Soft Machine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Davy DMX,
Theoretical Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-102,
DJ Sneak,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Finger,
Mantronix,
The Saints,
Moss Icon,
the Slits,
Bush Tetras,
Blossom Toes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
Yaz,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Christie,
Dorothy Ashby,
Isaac Hayes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacob Miller,
Scott Walker,
DJ Style,
Alison Limerick,
Jerry's Kids,
Sugar Minott,
Eli Mardock,
Roxy Music,
The Litter,
Aswad,
X-Ray Spex,
Rapeman,
Ultravox,
Vainqueur,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Schoolly D,
Cal Tjader,
Fatback Band,
Electric Prunes,
Scion,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.