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 Liechtenstein 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Erykah Badu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
June of 44,
Iggy Pop,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Half Japanese,
Black Bananas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mission of Burma,
Mars,
The Knickerbockers,
Boredoms,
Sugar Minott,
Scott Walker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Bar-Kays,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Zero Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Yellowson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Al Stewart,
The Misunderstood,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lyres,
Laurel Aitken,
Minnie Riperton,
Jacob Miller,
Magma,
Accadde A,
Sight & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Lindisfarne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pop Group,
The Remains,
Maurizio,
The American Breed,
Hashim,
Soft Cell,
Sparks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eve St. Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Minor Threat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Basic Channel,
Technova,
ABC,
Grauzone,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.