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 Guinea-Bissau and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin 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 Brick to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Throbbing Gristle,
Zapp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brass Construction,
Magazine,
Bush Tetras,
Rites of Spring,
Funkadelic,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sugar Minott,
Chris & Cosey,
Kaleidoscope,
the Soft Cell,
Gabor Szabo,
the Germs,
Marc Almond,
China Crisis,
The Cowsills,
Angry Samoans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ice-T,
The Smoke,
Ten City,
Pagans,
Royal Trux,
Stereo Dub,
Scrapy,
Rod Modell,
David Axelrod,
Newcleus,
Radiohead,
Brick,
Mo-Dettes,
Dual Sessions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Associates,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New Age Steppers,
Symarip,
Shuggie Otis,
Byron Stingily,
Accadde A,
Warren Ellis,
Sällskapet,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Youth Brigade,
Yusef Lateef,
Rosa Yemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brothers Johnson,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.