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 Djibouti and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Marc Almond to the punk 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Rosa Yemen,
Nils Olav,
Subhumans,
Mars,
MDC,
Faraquet,
the Soft Cell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Au Pairs,
Organ,
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gories,
cv313,
Sugar Minott,
Pussy Galore,
The Victims,
New Order,
Thompson Twins,
Depeche Mode,
Kenny Larkin,
The Pop Group,
Lucky Dragons,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Swans,
John Lydon,
Altered Images,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blues Magoos,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lindisfarne,
The Fortunes,
Black Pus,
Bill Near,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q and Not U,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Moleskins,
DJ Style,
The Walker Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Main Source,
The Gun Club,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joy Division,
D'Angelo,
Sonic Youth,
Rod Modell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rakim,
Quadrant,
Magazine,
Scratch Acid,
Scion,
Carl Craig,
Dave Gahan,
Slave,
Motorama,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.