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 Saudi Arabia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Procol Harum,
Jacob Miller,
Girls At Our Best!,
Funky Four + One,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yellowson,
Quantec,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun City Girls,
Bluetip,
the Swans,
Joe Smooth,
Man Parrish,
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
Mark Hollis,
Unrelated Segments,
K-Klass,
The Moleskins,
Cymande,
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks,
Nick Fraelich,
Main Source,
KRS-One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heaven 17,
Iggy Pop,
The Raincoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
Minutemen,
cv313,
Spoonie Gee,
Rotary Connection,
Jesper Dahlback,
Soft Cell,
Maurizio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cheater Slicks,
Sam Rivers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wings,
The Buckinghams,
Tres Demented,
The Victims,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Television Personalities,
Mad Mike,
Skaos,
the Human League,
Shoche,
Brothers Johnson,
Moss Icon,
Nik Kershaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Ituana,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.