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 Niger and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
Lightning Bolt,
The Count Five,
The Modern Lovers,
The Slits,
Maurizio,
The Birthday Party,
Sixth Finger,
Average White Band,
Drexciya,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yazoo,
The Evens,
The Divine Comedy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacques Brel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Lindisfarne,
Tears for Fears,
The Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Black Sheep,
Moby Grape,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chris Corsano,
Matthew Bourne,
Cecil Taylor,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mad Mike,
The Dead C,
L. Decosne,
Cybotron,
Thompson Twins,
Black Bananas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marvin Gaye,
Banda Bassotti,
Whodini,
Model 500,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABBA,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
Radio Birdman,
Donald Byrd,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.