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 Moldova 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 T. Rex to the rap 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
Deadbeat,
B.T. Express,
The Golliwogs,
Crooked Eye,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ludus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Morten Harket,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Barracudas,
James White and The Blacks,
Cymande,
Reuben Wilson,
The Angels of Light,
Deakin,
Siglo XX,
Moebius,
Lightning Bolt,
Laurel Aitken,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Hill,
Piero Umiliani,
The Trojans,
Robert Görl,
Ohio Players,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eddi Front,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Freddie Wadling,
X-Ray Spex,
Pagans,
The Birthday Party,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cramps,
Camouflage,
Parry Music,
Ponytail,
U.S. Maple,
Royal Trux,
Inner City,
Charles Mingus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Erykah Badu,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gories,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
Dave Gahan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Delta 5,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Make Up,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.