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 Bologna.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Q65 to the punk 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gories,
Quantec,
Monolake,
Stiv Bators,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Mummies,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sex Pistols,
The Fugs,
Jacques Brel,
Los Fastidios,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Alarm Clocks,
Magma,
Yaz,
Pantaleimon,
The Seeds,
R.M.O.,
Niagra,
Eddi Front,
Rapeman,
Harmonia,
Minutemen,
Howard Jones,
Alison Limerick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Model 500,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aswad,
Mandrill,
X-102,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column,
Sixth Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arab on Radar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Donny Hathaway,
Lucky Dragons,
Sällskapet,
The Cure,
Don Cherry,
Crime,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pussy Galore,
cv313,
The Moody Blues,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wings,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
Lungfish,
Echospace,
Visage,
Con Funk Shun,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.