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 Micronesia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Divine Comedy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Parry Music,
Young Marble Giants,
Sandy B,
Heaven 17,
DNA,
La Düsseldorf,
Minor Threat,
Cameo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gladiators,
Malaria!,
Bobby Sherman,
Ice-T,
The Velvet Underground,
Siglo XX,
Maleditus Sound,
Minutemen,
Rapeman,
the Normal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roger Hodgson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Move,
Q65,
Jeff Mills,
Sällskapet,
a-ha,
John Lydon,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Peter & Gordon,
Blancmange,
Vainqueur,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Talk Talk,
Procol Harum,
Dave Gahan,
PIL,
Hasil Adkins,
The American Breed,
Minny Pops,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
World's Most,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Godley & Creme,
Gang Starr,
The Tremeloes,
Bluetip,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.