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 Haiti and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fania All-Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Patti Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Black Flag,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Names,
Marine Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
10cc,
DJ Style,
David Bowie,
The Real Kids,
Easy Going,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
The Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Yazoo,
Maurizio,
Joyce Sims,
Morten Harket,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Happenings,
Gabor Szabo,
The Durutti Column,
Tom Boy,
The Offenders,
Minor Threat,
The Dirtbombs,
A Certain Ratio,
Iggy Pop,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Negative Approach,
Soul II Soul,
Moby Grape,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alison Limerick,
Johnny Clarke,
China Crisis,
Minutemen,
the Soft Cell,
Roxy Music,
Chris Corsano,
Television Personalities,
The Zeros,
Urselle,
The Gun Club,
Marc Almond,
Rekid,
Gang Green,
Quando Quango,
MDC,
Eric Copeland,
Tim Buckley,
E-Dancer,
Glenn Branca,
T. Rex,
Mantronix,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacob Miller,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pylon,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.