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 Monaco and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Fugazi to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order 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?
Black Pus,
Nik Kershaw,
The Moody Blues,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
Desert Stars,
Black Moon,
Eddi Front,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slackers,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Near,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Connie Case,
The Raincoats,
Radio Birdman,
Angry Samoans,
Reuben Wilson,
Bootsy Collins,
Eve St. Jones,
Matthew Bourne,
Howard Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
Rotary Connection,
Crooked Eye,
The Grass Roots,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Infiniti,
The Evens,
Barbara Tucker,
Aaron Thompson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Skatalites,
Technova,
June Days,
Lucky Dragons,
Masters at Work,
Graham Central Station,
The Index,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Hill,
Sam Rivers,
Surgeon,
Soul II Soul,
The Beau Brummels,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crash Course in Science,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
In Retrospect,
Scrapy,
Con Funk Shun,
Monolake,
Sight & Sound,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Piero Umiliani,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.