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 Argentina and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Scratch Acid to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Skaos,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
The Victims,
Neil Young,
Kas Product,
Unwound,
Arab on Radar,
Desert Stars,
Pagans,
Mark Hollis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Con Funk Shun,
Los Fastidios,
Procol Harum,
the Human League,
Jerry's Kids,
Scion,
David McCallum,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
Cameo,
Todd Terry,
The Cowsills,
Marine Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Womack,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
JFA,
Warsaw,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
T.S.O.L.,
Chris Corsano,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ten City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter and Kerry,
The Monks,
Morten Harket,
Black Flag,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Charles Mingus,
The Residents,
The Standells,
Talk Talk,
Laurel Aitken,
Q and Not U,
Yaz,
The Wake,
Hardrive,
H. Thieme,
Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Radiohead,
Roxette,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.