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 Fiji and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Mantronix to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mummies,
Brass Construction,
Talk Talk,
LL Cool J,
Zero Boys,
Desert Stars,
Essential Logic,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Stereo Dub,
Silicon Teens,
Jawbox,
Audionom,
Joey Negro,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The United States of America,
Zapp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eurythmics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aloha Tigers,
Donald Byrd,
Blake Baxter,
Minutemen,
The Smoke,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oneida,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lightning Bolt,
Drexciya,
Letta Mbulu,
T. Rex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Reagan Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter & Gordon,
Qualms,
The Litter,
The Pop Group,
Matthew Halsall,
Royal Trux,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dead C,
Popol Vuh,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Lynne,
Derrick Morgan,
Barry Ungar,
Crash Course in Science,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.