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 United Kingdom and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Arcadia to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Pole,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Colin Newman,
Supertramp,
DJ Style,
Traffic Nightmare,
Organ,
Rod Modell,
Thompson Twins,
Sarah Menescal,
Moby Grape,
John Foxx,
The Motions,
The Five Americans,
Don Cherry,
The Busters,
Soulsonic Force,
Grey Daturas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Severed Heads,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cowsills,
Section 25,
Mo-Dettes,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-Ray Spex,
Piero Umiliani,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Pop Group,
The Gories,
Iggy Pop,
This Heat,
Cheater Slicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Moebius,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
The Monochrome Set,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ituana,
Ten City,
Essential Logic,
The Tremeloes,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
Mission of Burma,
Darondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dennis Brown,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker,
Con Funk Shun,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Bananas,
Skarface,
Glenn Branca,
X-102,
Lou Christie,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blackbyrds,
The J.B.'s,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.