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 Nigeria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Y Pants to the grunge 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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers,
The Dirtbombs,
Pussy Galore,
Drexciya,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mantronix,
The Saints,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
the Soft Cell,
Ossler,
China Crisis,
The Real Kids,
Blancmange,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Panda Bear,
Jacob Miller,
Hardrive,
Yazoo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Evens,
The Human League,
The Count Five,
Soft Cell,
Althea and Donna,
MDC,
Slick Rick,
Nick Fraelich,
Crime,
Brand Nubian,
The Smoke,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash,
Spoonie Gee,
Jerry's Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Martian,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
R.M.O.,
Deepchord,
L. Decosne,
Qualms,
Pet Shop Boys,
This Heat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Quadrant,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sex Pistols,
Rakim,
Lyres,
Rufus Thomas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Shuggie Otis,
Todd Terry,
The Cramps,
The Vogues,
Gong,
Country Teasers,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.