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 Jordan and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Drexciya to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dennis Brown,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yellowson,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Finger,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Womack,
New York Dolls,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Cybotron,
Circle Jerks,
The Fall,
Cymande,
Radiopuhelimet,
D'Angelo,
Qualms,
Graham Central Station,
Lalo Schifrin,
Clear Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Tim Buckley,
The Searchers,
Fluxion,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Todd Terry,
U.S. Maple,
Slick Rick,
The Litter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lightning Bolt,
Arcadia,
Subhumans,
Ponytail,
Marcia Griffiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moss Icon,
Groovy Waters,
Rakim,
Desert Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
B.T. Express,
Tom Boy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faust,
Delta 5,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
Scott Walker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sex Pistols,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wings,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.