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 Dominican Republic and from London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Litter to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Patti Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Terry Callier,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deadbeat,
The Golliwogs,
Wally Richardson,
The Gap Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
The Toasters,
Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Dennis Brown,
Godley & Creme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swans,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Johnny Clarke,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
The Blackbyrds,
The Wake,
Reagan Youth,
Bauhaus,
Kerri Chandler,
Q and Not U,
Howard Jones,
Yaz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Qualms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mark Hollis,
Ronnie Foster,
Young Marble Giants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alphaville,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Altered Images,
DJ Style,
Arcadia,
Rapeman,
Darondo,
Deepchord,
Fat Boys,
The Index,
Connie Case,
Porter Ricks,
Grey Daturas,
Slick Rick,
The Barracudas,
Hoover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Star Department,
Nation of Ulysses,
Accadde A,
Brick,
Unrelated Segments,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Lydon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.