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 Liechtenstein and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Chris & Cosey to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
The Remains,
The Sound,
Von Mondo,
Visage,
Charles Mingus,
Vainqueur,
Babytalk,
Carl Craig,
Glenn Branca,
Talk Talk,
The Victims,
Radiohead,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ornette Coleman,
Ten City,
Dead Boys,
LL Cool J,
Panda Bear,
Crooked Eye,
Howard Jones,
The Move,
The Gories,
Eric Dolphy,
Nils Olav,
Little Man,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Buzzcocks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hardrive,
Ponytail,
Mo-Dettes,
Reagan Youth,
the Association,
Joy Division,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alton Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Desert Stars,
Fat Boys,
The Happenings,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Youth Brigade,
Michelle Simonal,
Aloha Tigers,
Flipper,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed,
Japan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Adolescents,
The Names,
Johnny Osbourne,
Can,
New Age Steppers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sugar Minott,
Masters at Work,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.