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 Singapore and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Five Americans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Arab on Radar,
Pierre Henry,
The Toasters,
ABC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cure,
Archie Shepp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
The Electric Prunes,
The Standells,
Hashim,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
John Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Groovy Waters,
The Residents,
Tres Demented,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ludus,
Moss Icon,
Faraquet,
Susan Cadogan,
Matthew Bourne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Green,
Flash Fearless,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
The Happenings,
Saccharine Trust,
Sun City Girls,
Das Ding,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Vogues,
Harry Pussy,
Vainqueur,
Joensuu 1685,
Motorama,
Metal Thangz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The American Breed,
Zero Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yellowson,
Sparks,
The Pretty Things,
The Slits,
The Searchers,
Sällskapet,
Talk Talk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kaleidoscope,
Marvin Gaye,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.