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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Visage to the rock 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Motorama,
Oblivians,
The Knickerbockers,
Pulsallama,
The Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radiohead,
Marmalade,
Stiv Bators,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Junior Murvin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cal Tjader,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Zero Boys,
Duran Duran,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Newcleus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fad Gadget,
Severed Heads,
Gang Gang Dance,
ABBA,
The Neon Judgement,
Brick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Technova,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
B.T. Express,
Inner City,
In Retrospect,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
LL Cool J,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
The Raincoats,
Blake Baxter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Terry Callier,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
Dead Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
Hashim,
Little Man,
Porter Ricks,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.