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 Mongolia and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blancmange,
The Mummies,
Slave,
The Fugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gregory Isaacs,
Isaac Hayes,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Y Pants,
Skaos,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Black Dice,
Masters at Work,
Scion,
Funkadelic,
Nirvana,
Swell Maps,
Neu!,
Spandau Ballet,
Kayak,
Anthony Braxton,
Buzzcocks,
Mars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
CMW,
The Smiths,
The Young Rascals,
Bluetip,
The Cure,
Depeche Mode,
Sexual Harrassment,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soul II Soul,
Peter & Gordon,
Altered Images,
Country Teasers,
Massinfluence,
The Kinks,
Simply Red,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alton Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Adolescents,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sex Pistols,
Drexciya,
The New Christs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roxy Music,
Morten Harket,
Arcadia,
The Grass Roots,
Scratch Acid,
ABC,
Ice-T,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.