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 Cambodia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 the Germs to the jazz 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Bizarre Inc.,
The American Breed,
Yellowson,
the Swans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Terry Callier,
Depeche Mode,
Sparks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Liliput,
Radio Birdman,
Q65,
Lyres,
Eric Dolphy,
The Durutti Column,
Brand Nubian,
Joy Division,
Wally Richardson,
Howard Jones,
The J.B.'s,
The Fugs,
Tim Buckley,
Rod Modell,
Lower 48,
Josef K,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young,
Simply Red,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thompson Twins,
Crime,
A Certain Ratio,
Visage,
The Doors,
Public Enemy,
Circle Jerks,
Desert Stars,
One Last Wish,
The Names,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jawbox,
The Slackers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scientists,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Pus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Halsall,
H. Thieme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mars,
Jerry's Kids,
Silicon Teens,
Kas Product,
Easy Going,
Absolute Body Control,
Moby Grape,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.