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 Japan and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 kango's stein massive to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 Offenders,
CMW,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Görl,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rapeman,
Metal Thangz,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
Pantaleimon,
Joyce Sims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
Accadde A,
The Young Rascals,
Rod Modell,
Peter & Gordon,
Yellowson,
Little Man,
Sixth Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
Outsiders,
Deadbeat,
Mark Hollis,
Whodini,
Main Source,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Popol Vuh,
Neu!,
The Kinks,
DNA,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fortunes,
Joe Finger,
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Zero Boys,
Sam Rivers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Moby Grape,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rakim,
Unrelated Segments,
Monolake,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pet Shop Boys,
H. Thieme,
Arthur Verocai,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
The Neon Judgement,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.