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 Russia and from London.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
John Coltrane,
The American Breed,
The Real Kids,
New Age Steppers,
Erasure,
Robert Görl,
Gabor Szabo,
The Raincoats,
Bill Near,
Livin' Joy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Negative Approach,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doors,
ABC,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deepchord,
Section 25,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bauhaus,
Anthony Braxton,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brand Nubian,
Peter & Gordon,
Todd Rundgren,
LL Cool J,
Anakelly,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joy Division,
Hoover,
The Selecter,
Robert Wyatt,
Archie Shepp,
Duran Duran,
Harmonia,
Johnny Clarke,
David Bowie,
Sister Nancy,
Black Sheep,
Das Ding,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
The Gun Club,
Thee Headcoats,
The Zeros,
Skaos,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Pus,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Happenings,
Cymande,
Marc Almond,
Black Flag,
Crime,
Minnie Riperton,
Godley & Creme,
Accadde A,
Little Man,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.