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 Kosovo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 rhodes 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 Roger Hodgson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Circle Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Camouflage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Vladislav Delay,
Wally Richardson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yazoo,
Organ,
Roger Hodgson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alice Coltrane,
ABC,
Warsaw,
Average White Band,
The Move,
Unwound,
Mo-Dettes,
Steve Hackett,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultravox,
Bill Wells,
Goldenarms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mad Mike,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tears for Fears,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalann,
The Tremeloes,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Negative Approach,
Darondo,
Henry Cow,
The Human League,
Scott Walker,
Eddi Front,
Index,
Interpol,
New Age Steppers,
Inner City,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers,
Pagans,
Bob Dylan,
MC5,
Severed Heads,
Harry Pussy,
Amazonics,
Dawn Penn,
Scratch Acid,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Niagra,
Brothers Johnson,
Cal Tjader,
La Düsseldorf,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.