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 Luxembourg and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Adolescents to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
This Heat,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
the Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Normal,
Newcleus,
Vladislav Delay,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
AZ,
Frankie Knuckles,
Todd Rundgren,
Bizarre Inc.,
Swell Maps,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultra Naté,
Dennis Brown,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Absolute Body Control,
Technova,
Kevin Saunderson,
Los Fastidios,
Ohio Players,
Bang On A Can,
Con Funk Shun,
Youth Brigade,
The Alarm Clocks,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
Camouflage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Knickerbockers,
LL Cool J,
Sister Nancy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Zero Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
Brand Nubian,
Danielle Patucci,
Public Enemy,
Sarah Menescal,
Deepchord,
Electric Prunes,
Jandek,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cameo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yellowson,
Maleditus Sound,
Heaven 17,
Au Pairs,
Pulsallama,
DNA,
Marshall Jefferson,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.