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 Nauru and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Easy Going to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
Schoolly D,
Mantronix,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Procol Harum,
John Foxx,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pretty Things,
Gerry Rafferty,
Peter and Kerry,
Flash Fearless,
The Last Poets,
June of 44,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Hood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Essential Logic,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camberwell Now,
Erasure,
Skaos,
Michelle Simonal,
Dark Day,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Patti Smith,
Public Image Ltd.,
Swans,
ABBA,
The Trojans,
Das Ding,
Thompson Twins,
Rufus Thomas,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chrome,
Lebanon Hanover,
Quadrant,
Guru Guru,
UT,
Alphaville,
Brass Construction,
Malaria!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Faust,
LL Cool J,
The Cure,
JFA,
Subhumans,
The Sonics,
Thee Headcoats,
Basic Channel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Eric Dolphy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Accadde A,
L. Decosne,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.