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 Bahamas and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Pagans to the rock 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer 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 marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fall,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Alice Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
Newcleus,
Whodini,
Animal Collective,
Amazonics,
Desert Stars,
The Birthday Party,
The Motions,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
Loose Ends,
Joe Finger,
Rapeman,
T. Rex,
Dennis Brown,
Radiohead,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Spandau Ballet,
The Grass Roots,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
the Association,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Flag,
Mars,
Eric Copeland,
Public Enemy,
the Swans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deakin,
The Gories,
Sparks,
Wally Richardson,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Green,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
Arthur Verocai,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pantytec,
Livin' Joy,
The Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Gong,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
DNA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
James White and The Blacks,
Stereo Dub,
a-ha,
Hot Snakes,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.