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 Lesotho and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fat Boys to the dance 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Fugazi,
Piero Umiliani,
Scientists,
Chris & Cosey,
Pylon,
New York Dolls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Cell,
Q and Not U,
This Heat,
Boogie Down Productions,
Essential Logic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun City Girls,
B.T. Express,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mantronix,
Quantec,
Public Enemy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gong,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-102,
Zero Boys,
Skriet,
The Doors,
X-101,
The Gap Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Danielle Patucci,
The Names,
Cal Tjader,
Altered Images,
Pet Shop Boys,
Popol Vuh,
June of 44,
48th St. Collective,
Khruangbin,
Funkadelic,
Lucky Dragons,
Yaz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warren Ellis,
DJ Style,
Adolescents,
Leonard Cohen,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Technova,
Procol Harum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Smog,
Delta 5,
Grandmaster Flash,
Whodini,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Livin' Joy,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.