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 Botswana and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 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 Cameo to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
Swans,
Agent Orange,
Half Japanese,
Junior Murvin,
Fugazi,
OOIOO,
R.M.O.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Zeros,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Don Cherry,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
Minny Pops,
Byron Stingily,
Symarip,
Connie Case,
Heaven 17,
the Germs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Panda Bear,
New Age Steppers,
Rosa Yemen,
The Modern Lovers,
Sex Pistols,
Bauhaus,
Reagan Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Urselle,
Peter and Kerry,
Max Romeo,
Wolf Eyes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Easy Going,
The Divine Comedy,
Dead Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Fluxion,
Roy Ayers,
The Knickerbockers,
Marvin Gaye,
The Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roger Hodgson,
Hardrive,
Alton Ellis,
Sandy B,
Delta 5,
John Holt,
Ultravox,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.