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 Equatorial Guinea and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 Joyce Sims to the jazz 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bluetip,
Bill Wells,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Prunes,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül II,
Q and Not U,
the Human League,
Yazoo,
Bauhaus,
Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
Animal Collective,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Derrick May,
UT,
Popol Vuh,
Tommy Roe,
Section 25,
Interpol,
Aswad,
Sparks,
Chrome,
Metal Thangz,
Don Cherry,
The Zeros,
Scratch Acid,
Rosa Yemen,
kango's stein massive,
June of 44,
Aural Exciters,
Ice-T,
Soft Machine,
Hot Snakes,
The Cowsills,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Music Machine,
AZ,
Joensuu 1685,
Nas,
The Fortunes,
Swell Maps,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Slits,
The Young Rascals,
Tom Boy,
Circle Jerks,
Lalann,
The Kinks,
Harry Pussy,
Mars,
Ten City,
Matthew Bourne,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Slits,
Spandau Ballet,
Essential Logic,
Gang Green,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.