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 Nauru and from Portland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Television Personalities to the rap 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Deakin,
Monks,
B.T. Express,
Henry Cow,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-102,
Colin Newman,
Massinfluence,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Anthony Braxton,
OOIOO,
the Germs,
The Remains,
Warren Ellis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
China Crisis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DNA,
Panda Bear,
The Trojans,
Bad Manners,
Country Teasers,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Big Daddy Kane,
D'Angelo,
10cc,
Lyres,
Michelle Simonal,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Archie Shepp,
The Buckinghams,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun City Girls,
Brass Construction,
Infiniti,
The Divine Comedy,
Kurtis Blow,
Clear Light,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Morten Harket,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
the Sonics,
Graham Central Station,
Q65,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Blues Magoos,
Marvin Gaye,
Ornette Coleman,
Chrome,
Television Personalities,
Kaleidoscope,
Buzzcocks,
Janne Schatter,
Ponytail,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.