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 Peru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Soft Cell 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
John Lydon,
The Selecter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lyres,
Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
Mantronix,
The Slits,
Mission of Burma,
The Vogues,
Thompson Twins,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Associates,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cure,
Little Man,
Buzzcocks,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Residents,
Wally Richardson,
Sugar Minott,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marmalade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick Morgan,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Walker Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Nils Olav,
Massinfluence,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
Bluetip,
Bush Tetras,
Toni Rubio,
David Bowie,
Marvin Gaye,
Niagra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Soft Cell,
Roxette,
Moebius,
Wolf Eyes,
Malaria!,
Cluster,
Minor Threat,
Maleditus Sound,
Aswad,
Black Sheep,
Whodini,
Gang Gang Dance,
Erykah Badu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.