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 Djibouti and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Johnny Clarke to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Suicide,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Sonics,
The Pretty Things,
The Moleskins,
This Heat,
The Tremeloes,
Faraquet,
Robert Görl,
Hardrive,
Jeff Lynne,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Al Stewart,
Kenny Larkin,
Simply Red,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lightning Bolt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dirtbombs,
Dave Gahan,
Khruangbin,
The Fortunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Liliput,
Mark Hollis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Infiniti,
Matthew Bourne,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alphaville,
Yazoo,
The Star Department,
Animal Collective,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Almond,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Christie,
Fad Gadget,
Cymande,
Masters at Work,
Eric Dolphy,
Tom Boy,
The United States of America,
Sight & Sound,
Colin Newman,
The Fire Engines,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
Spandau Ballet,
Excepter,
James White and The Blacks,
Sällskapet,
The Residents,
Rosa Yemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.