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 Singapore and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Tubeway Army to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grey Daturas,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cluster,
Cal Tjader,
DJ Sneak,
Shoche,
Patti Smith,
Clear Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
Pantaleimon,
Icehouse,
Laurel Aitken,
Lalo Schifrin,
La Düsseldorf,
Boredoms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Anthony Braxton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
CMW,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Inner City,
Supertramp,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Machine,
Swell Maps,
Kas Product,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
UT,
Sixth Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultimate Spinach,
Popol Vuh,
The Zeros,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
Tres Demented,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arab on Radar,
Harry Pussy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ludus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Star Department,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Reagan Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aswad,
Brick,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.