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 Tanzania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Lou Reed 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
The Gap Band,
Cybotron,
Pylon,
Jeff Mills,
Loose Ends,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
The Standells,
Gang Starr,
John Cale,
Flipper,
The Smiths,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
B.T. Express,
Interpol,
Banda Bassotti,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stereo Dub,
Alice Coltrane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mars,
Spandau Ballet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faust,
The Star Department,
Laurel Aitken,
the Soft Cell,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camberwell Now,
Cymande,
Underground Resistance,
Deepchord,
Marmalade,
Darondo,
Slick Rick,
Patti Smith,
Half Japanese,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soulsonic Force,
Fat Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
Malaria!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Sheep,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Womack,
Barrington Levy,
Average White Band,
T.S.O.L.,
ABC,
Eric Dolphy,
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.