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 Grenada and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 MDC to the dance 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Marmalade,
Scratch Acid,
Warren Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
The Cramps,
Rapeman,
John Holt,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dirtbombs,
Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronnie Foster,
Malaria!,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mummies,
Judy Mowatt,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Starr,
The Seeds,
The Index,
The Motions,
The Red Krayola,
Alison Limerick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
Metal Thangz,
the Association,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Siglo XX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Foxx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Derrick Morgan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
China Crisis,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül II,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sandy B,
Mission of Burma,
Parry Music,
The Slits,
MDC,
Joensuu 1685,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.