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 Somalia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Underground Resistance to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
K-Klass,
The Cure,
H. Thieme,
Peter and Kerry,
Malaria!,
Donald Byrd,
Grauzone,
Boredoms,
Ten City,
Davy DMX,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gichy Dan,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers,
Tom Boy,
Wire,
David Axelrod,
Unwound,
Sam Rivers,
The Red Krayola,
Black Flag,
Steve Hackett,
KRS-One,
Robert Görl,
Marshall Jefferson,
Desert Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Metal Thangz,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rufus Thomas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Letta Mbulu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hoover,
EPMD,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Reed,
Alphaville,
Visage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Man Eating Sloth,
Shoche,
Television Personalities,
The Vogues,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
Danielle Patucci,
Theoretical Girls,
Carl Craig,
New York Dolls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Age Steppers,
Wally Richardson,
Pierre Henry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.