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 Palau and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terrestrial Tones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Barrington Levy,
DJ Style,
DJ Sneak,
The Angels of Light,
Sun City Girls,
Mars,
Thee Headcoats,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash,
Can,
Lungfish,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
World's Most,
Alton Ellis,
Oblivians,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick Morgan,
Funkadelic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
the Association,
Ice-T,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fad Gadget,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magazine,
The Litter,
Organ,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Swans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camberwell Now,
Suicide,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cameo,
Eden Ahbez,
Monks,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Near,
Cymande,
Bootsy Collins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nas,
Rapeman,
Index,
The Sonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
Bobby Sherman,
Roger Hodgson,
Tomorrow,
OOIOO,
Moebius,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.