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 Belize and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 Nico to the jazz 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Near,
China Crisis,
Morten Harket,
Fatback Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Sugar Minott,
David Bowie,
Lightning Bolt,
Ohio Players,
Crooked Eye,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maurizio,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Prunes,
Index,
Parry Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
UT,
Brick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Circle Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DNA,
World's Most,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Charles Mingus,
Stiv Bators,
Pierre Henry,
Rapeman,
Nico,
Japan,
Derrick Morgan,
The Mummies,
Slick Rick,
Quadrant,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monks,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pulsallama,
Desert Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Kurtis Blow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Steve Hackett,
Dead Boys,
Subhumans,
Au Pairs,
Wasted Youth,
Max Romeo,
Popol Vuh,
the Sonics,
The Kinks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Grass Roots,
Cybotron,
Camouflage,
Chris & Cosey,
Average White Band,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.