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 Liechtenstein and from Manchester.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pere Ubu to the rock 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
DNA,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June of 44,
Slick Rick,
Basic Channel,
Boz Scaggs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Little Man,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joensuu 1685,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Supertramp,
Pere Ubu,
Jandek,
Warsaw,
Popol Vuh,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Lydon,
DJ Style,
Guru Guru,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Sherman,
The Red Krayola,
Tubeway Army,
The Cramps,
Gang Green,
The Dirtbombs,
Dawn Penn,
Juan Atkins,
Tears for Fears,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Leaves,
Stereo Dub,
KRS-One,
Radio Birdman,
Motorama,
The Standells,
Fat Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Index,
Slave,
Janne Schatter,
Eurythmics,
Echospace,
F. McDonald,
Au Pairs,
K-Klass,
Kenny Larkin,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
the Swans,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.