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 Bulgaria and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin 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 The Leaves to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hardrive,
Bootsy Collins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aural Exciters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Urselle,
Youth Brigade,
Cybotron,
the Bar-Kays,
Saccharine Trust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Guru Guru,
Moss Icon,
Rotary Connection,
The Evens,
Lucky Dragons,
Los Fastidios,
Tommy Roe,
Nas,
Fat Boys,
Country Teasers,
Cheater Slicks,
Stereo Dub,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Procol Harum,
Letta Mbulu,
Easy Going,
Roxy Music,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Victims,
Soft Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Subhumans,
Echospace,
Marine Girls,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
Shoche,
Marmalade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Babytalk,
the Swans,
Franke,
Anakelly,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mars,
Nirvana,
the Normal,
Gang Starr,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.