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 Somalia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
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 harpsichord 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 Ronan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Gang Green,
Roxette,
Model 500,
Oblivians,
Desert Stars,
Nirvana,
Bill Near,
E-Dancer,
The Slackers,
T.S.O.L.,
These Immortal Souls,
Minor Threat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Grey Daturas,
Aural Exciters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun Ra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Laurel Aitken,
The Martian,
The Associates,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DNA,
The New Christs,
Skarface,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monochrome Set,
Agent Orange,
The Mojo Men,
Lalann,
Charles Mingus,
Tubeway Army,
H. Thieme,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cramps,
OOIOO,
Sandy B,
Public Enemy,
Ronan,
Aloha Tigers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
Stetsasonic,
Jeff Mills,
the Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
Depeche Mode,
Hardrive,
Pierre Henry,
Gong,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Count Five,
Can,
Sixth Finger,
PIL,
Fatback Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.