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 Morocco and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Harpers Bizarre to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
X-102,
The Five Americans,
Sex Pistols,
Pussy Galore,
The Leaves,
Make Up,
Monks,
The Fall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Infiniti,
Smog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harry Pussy,
Don Cherry,
KRS-One,
DNA,
Michelle Simonal,
Tubeway Army,
Colin Newman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang of Four,
Joe Smooth,
The Smiths,
Dennis Brown,
The Cramps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hoover,
Big Daddy Kane,
Urselle,
June Days,
Stiv Bators,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Massinfluence,
Gerry Rafferty,
Goldenarms,
The Residents,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Knickerbockers,
Eli Mardock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
La Düsseldorf,
Excepter,
The Move,
Zapp,
Camberwell Now,
Jacques Brel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Joey Negro,
Los Fastidios,
Crime,
10cc,
Joe Finger,
Tommy Roe,
Royal Trux,
Eric Copeland,
Soul Sonic Force,
Y Pants,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thompson Twins,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.