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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Edmonton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 John Lydon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 J.B.'s,
the Sonics,
the Germs,
The Durutti Column,
Newcleus,
Procol Harum,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sandy B,
Erasure,
Drexciya,
Electric Prunes,
Cheater Slicks,
The Human League,
Ultra Naté,
Basic Channel,
Amon Düül,
The Index,
Robert Hood,
Lalann,
Juan Atkins,
The Leaves,
Drive Like Jehu,
Buzzcocks,
Pulsallama,
Au Pairs,
Suburban Knight,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magazine,
Siglo XX,
Audionom,
The Neon Judgement,
Ken Boothe,
Aaron Thompson,
Magma,
Tom Boy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Desert Stars,
Neu!,
The Red Krayola,
Brothers Johnson,
World's Most,
Eddi Front,
Alton Ellis,
The Misunderstood,
Bizarre Inc.,
Danielle Patucci,
Banda Bassotti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Main Source,
Underground Resistance,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ornette Coleman,
Funky Four + One,
Rod Modell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare,
Rufus Thomas,
Bad Manners,
Outsiders,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.