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 Barbados and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Piero Umiliani to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Evens,
Visage,
Piero Umiliani,
Reagan Youth,
Eurythmics,
The Golliwogs,
Half Japanese,
Freddie Wadling,
Malaria!,
Maurizio,
Ten City,
Suburban Knight,
Tubeway Army,
Youth Brigade,
Vainqueur,
The Black Dice,
Deakin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skaos,
The Velvet Underground,
Talk Talk,
Aural Exciters,
Bluetip,
Liliput,
Blossom Toes,
The Litter,
Intrusion,
Simply Red,
T.S.O.L.,
The Happenings,
The Divine Comedy,
Cameo,
Harmonia,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
Marvin Gaye,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bauhaus,
Deepchord,
The Toasters,
Black Sheep,
The Raincoats,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cramps,
Fatback Band,
Suicide,
Rosa Yemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television Personalities,
Bang On A Can,
The Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Beau Brummels,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Symarip,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Goldenarms,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.