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 South Africa and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 Pantytec to the grime 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Seeds,
Banda Bassotti,
Camberwell Now,
China Crisis,
Joensuu 1685,
Heaven 17,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dirtbombs,
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Nirvana,
The Walker Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Golliwogs,
Erasure,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scratch Acid,
Gang of Four,
The Move,
Lyres,
Pantytec,
This Heat,
UT,
Silicon Teens,
PIL,
The Vogues,
Jeff Lynne,
Loose Ends,
Cameo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sandy B,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Moleskins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stetsasonic,
The Evens,
Soft Machine,
Hardrive,
Popol Vuh,
Spandau Ballet,
EPMD,
The Pop Group,
Roger Hodgson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
The Gap Band,
Steve Hackett,
Ludus,
Franke,
Kenny Larkin,
Easy Going,
Funkadelic,
In Retrospect,
Peter & Gordon,
Trumans Water,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.