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 Poland and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Altered Images,
Pantytec,
Lalann,
Index,
Joey Negro,
Goldenarms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Sneak,
Echospace,
Delta 5,
Joe Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
Alphaville,
The Techniques,
PIL,
Tom Boy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lindisfarne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter & Gordon,
Bill Near,
Jesper Dahlback,
Slick Rick,
Circle Jerks,
Pierre Henry,
The Wake,
Matthew Halsall,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Bauhaus,
Warren Ellis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The American Breed,
John Lydon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Womack,
Theoretical Girls,
T. Rex,
The Walker Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gabor Szabo,
Monolake,
Alton Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Sex Pistols,
Harry Pussy,
Lightning Bolt,
Dave Gahan,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-101,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
Pere Ubu,
Darondo,
The Saints,
Susan Cadogan,
Joy Division,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Urselle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.