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 Venezuela and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sun City Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Slick Rick,
Kevin Saunderson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Susan Cadogan,
Warren Ellis,
Liliput,
Ohio Players,
Pierre Henry,
Tears for Fears,
Nirvana,
June of 44,
Jacques Brel,
Inner City,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Monolake,
The Dirtbombs,
Stetsasonic,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delta 5,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rufus Thomas,
The Moleskins,
Nils Olav,
The Move,
These Immortal Souls,
R.M.O.,
Pantytec,
the Fania All-Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Bluetip,
Oneida,
Loose Ends,
World's Most,
Terrestrial Tones,
Suicide,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Q and Not U,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Bananas,
Darondo,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eurythmics,
The Star Department,
Sarah Menescal,
Lyres,
Trumans Water,
Television Personalities,
Lucky Dragons,
Mr. Review,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.