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 Mozambique and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 Human League to the disco 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Rotary Connection,
Jeru the Damaja,
Franke,
Schoolly D,
Vladislav Delay,
Buzzcocks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smoke,
The Litter,
Thompson Twins,
The Doors,
The Saints,
Bad Manners,
The Modern Lovers,
Can,
Magma,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Youth Brigade,
the Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
The Cowsills,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yellowson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Freddie Wadling,
Circle Jerks,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
Bootsy Collins,
Rod Modell,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
the Slits,
The Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
Stereo Dub,
David Bowie,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
The Wake,
The Neon Judgement,
The Motions,
The Monochrome Set,
The Vogues,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.