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 Cuba and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord 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 Jerry's Kids to the crunk 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Das Ding,
Gang of Four,
Slick Rick,
Ossler,
a-ha,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Con Funk Shun,
Bill Near,
The Move,
The Walker Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ice-T,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Soft Cell,
Popol Vuh,
Mandrill,
Ornette Coleman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echospace,
The Real Kids,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed,
Cybotron,
Joe Smooth,
Hardrive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Blues Magoos,
Unwound,
Freddie Wadling,
Slave,
Jeff Mills,
The Sound,
The Smiths,
Barrington Levy,
The Wake,
Sister Nancy,
Radiohead,
Siglo XX,
Joy Division,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L.,
Reagan Youth,
Q and Not U,
Stiv Bators,
Swans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dawn Penn,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nirvana,
The Shadows of Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.