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 Bangladesh and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rapeman to the grunge 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Marmalade,
The Cramps,
The Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Easy Going,
Sun City Girls,
One Last Wish,
Pantytec,
Zapp,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
Khruangbin,
Albert Ayler,
Crash Course in Science,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joey Negro,
The Shadows of Knight,
L. Decosne,
Joe Finger,
John Cale,
The Zeros,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Depeche Mode,
Ituana,
Barrington Levy,
Whodini,
Dark Day,
Siglo XX,
Jerry's Kids,
Max Romeo,
Livin' Joy,
Pantaleimon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Wolf Eyes,
Ronan,
Sarah Menescal,
The Index,
Joyce Sims,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minor Threat,
Schoolly D,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
Jacob Miller,
Ken Boothe,
10cc,
Scott Walker,
Interpol,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott Heron,
Au Pairs,
Groovy Waters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quando Quango,
Pussy Galore,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.