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 Finland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Holger Czukay 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 Sonny Sharrock to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barbara Tucker,
Newcleus,
Susan Cadogan,
Scrapy,
Television Personalities,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick May,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alton Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cluster,
Soul II Soul,
B.T. Express,
Ultravox,
The Wake,
Steve Hackett,
The Names,
The Mojo Men,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Foxx,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
These Immortal Souls,
Sexual Harrassment,
New Order,
Absolute Body Control,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Babytalk,
Bobby Byrd,
The Zeros,
Sandy B,
The Velvet Underground,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lalann,
The Standells,
Roxette,
Bad Manners,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kevin Saunderson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roy Ayers,
Mad Mike,
June Days,
John Lydon,
Matthew Halsall,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
Parry Music,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.