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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Intrusion to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Desert Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Adolescents,
Sparks,
Cameo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flipper,
Motorama,
Laurel Aitken,
Barry Ungar,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crime,
Colin Newman,
The Fugs,
Altered Images,
Morten Harket,
Barbara Tucker,
Peter & Gordon,
Flash Fearless,
Charles Mingus,
Radio Birdman,
New Order,
Letta Mbulu,
Pylon,
Monolake,
Bluetip,
Television,
Loose Ends,
The Durutti Column,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Main Source,
Young Marble Giants,
Bill Wells,
Donald Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Severed Heads,
Derrick Morgan,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Modern Lovers,
Tom Boy,
Lower 48,
Gong,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vainqueur,
Slick Rick,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Rundgren,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks,
Spandau Ballet,
Warren Ellis,
Soul II Soul,
Fugazi,
The Barracudas,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.