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 Indonesia and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 10cc to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Wings,
Bob Dylan,
Spoonie Gee,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Davy DMX,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Real Kids,
Barry Ungar,
Camberwell Now,
Pulsallama,
Blancmange,
Idris Muhammad,
Pere Ubu,
Flash Fearless,
Skriet,
Susan Cadogan,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gun Club,
Tim Buckley,
Sandy B,
the Association,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joey Negro,
The Seeds,
Bobby Womack,
New York Dolls,
Godley & Creme,
Tres Demented,
Pet Shop Boys,
Organ,
Eden Ahbez,
Hoover,
Chris Corsano,
Mo-Dettes,
Animal Collective,
Kayak,
Funky Four + One,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Lynne,
Zero Boys,
Gong,
Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
Tubeway Army,
Schoolly D,
The Pretty Things,
Hashim,
Symarip,
The Mummies,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Au Pairs,
Suburban Knight,
Brothers Johnson,
Nils Olav,
Minnie Riperton,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.