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 Belarus and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator 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 Joey Negro to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Monks,
Donald Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hashim,
Ronan,
Nirvana,
Black Sheep,
a-ha,
Porter Ricks,
The Gladiators,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Moon,
Ludus,
Letta Mbulu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hot Snakes,
Masters at Work,
Aural Exciters,
Judy Mowatt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dawn Penn,
Magma,
Public Enemy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra,
Oblivians,
Althea and Donna,
Yazoo,
Sound Behaviour,
It's A Beautiful Day,
DJ Sneak,
Susan Cadogan,
The Barracudas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Television Personalities,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kaleidoscope,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Ultra Naté,
Minnie Riperton,
The Seeds,
Banda Bassotti,
Intrusion,
Sight & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
L. Decosne,
Gang Starr,
Whodini,
Hasil Adkins,
Spoonie Gee,
Moss Icon,
Swell Maps,
Todd Rundgren,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Andrew Hill,
Ultravox,
New York Dolls,
Rekid,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.