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 Malawi and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Can to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
Dark Day,
ABBA,
Silicon Teens,
The Index,
Chris Corsano,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Style,
Boredoms,
Scion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Josef K,
Sound Behaviour,
The Searchers,
Todd Terry,
The Fortunes,
T.S.O.L.,
The Toasters,
Tommy Roe,
Roy Ayers,
Alphaville,
Fela Kuti,
Oblivians,
Darondo,
cv313,
Roxy Music,
The Music Machine,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aaron Thompson,
the Bar-Kays,
Ice-T,
Lucky Dragons,
Drexciya,
Bush Tetras,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Five Americans,
The Neon Judgement,
Scientists,
Rotary Connection,
Pierre Henry,
Marine Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Erykah Badu,
Public Enemy,
Kurtis Blow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mojo Men,
E-Dancer,
Saccharine Trust,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.