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 Equatorial Guinea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Qualms to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Trojans,
The Smoke,
Television Personalities,
The Real Kids,
The Remains,
Bluetip,
Public Enemy,
Charles Mingus,
Iggy Pop,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
ABBA,
Icehouse,
Jacques Brel,
The Count Five,
Rapeman,
The Happenings,
Gichy Dan,
U.S. Maple,
Depeche Mode,
Cal Tjader,
Judy Mowatt,
Sandy B,
The Golliwogs,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
The Names,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Clear Light,
Don Cherry,
The Smiths,
The Moody Blues,
Al Stewart,
Parry Music,
Lou Christie,
cv313,
World's Most,
Howard Jones,
Kaleidoscope,
Soft Cell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang of Four,
Michelle Simonal,
Marc Almond,
Grauzone,
Black Moon,
Rod Modell,
X-102,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skriet,
Bush Tetras,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Erykah Badu,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.