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 Chad and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alton Ellis to the disco 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Josef K,
Urselle,
Wire,
Duran Duran,
Hasil Adkins,
Leonard Cohen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suicide,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June Days,
Animal Collective,
Brothers Johnson,
Prince Buster,
Patti Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Doors,
New Age Steppers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Tremeloes,
Tres Demented,
Zapp,
Outsiders,
Peter & Gordon,
Porter Ricks,
Procol Harum,
The Real Kids,
Andrew Hill,
Barbara Tucker,
Brick,
The Monks,
The Skatalites,
PIL,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DNA,
Stetsasonic,
Scan 7,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed,
The Associates,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
New York Dolls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Saints,
Schoolly D,
Youth Brigade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Letta Mbulu,
The Standells,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Wake,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Model 500,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Make Up,
Vainqueur,
Delta 5,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.