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 Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Can,
Average White Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Searchers,
Bronski Beat,
Agitation Free,
Peter & Gordon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Wasted Youth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mark Hollis,
June of 44,
Flash Fearless,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doors,
Faust,
Sarah Menescal,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kurtis Blow,
Pere Ubu,
ABBA,
Absolute Body Control,
Suburban Knight,
Darondo,
Aloha Tigers,
Nirvana,
Freddie Wadling,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eden Ahbez,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joe Finger,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
Alison Limerick,
FM Einheit,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalann,
Mr. Review,
Sällskapet,
Hardrive,
Joey Negro,
Oneida,
Gang Green,
Sparks,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
Easy Going,
Rapeman,
Au Pairs,
Minnie Riperton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
The Barracudas,
Marine Girls,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.