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 Morocco and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Vainqueur to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord 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 arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Kinks,
A Certain Ratio,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Walker Brothers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Green,
Roxy Music,
Kayak,
The Cure,
Cal Tjader,
Alice Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cramps,
K-Klass,
Iggy Pop,
Steve Hackett,
Jacques Brel,
Aural Exciters,
Marmalade,
Scan 7,
kango's stein massive,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stiv Bators,
Erasure,
The Young Rascals,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gong,
Freddie Wadling,
Mo-Dettes,
The Offenders,
Suburban Knight,
Barrington Levy,
Liliput,
Fela Kuti,
L. Decosne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bush Tetras,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Swell Maps,
Nik Kershaw,
Howard Jones,
Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
Minutemen,
Yazoo,
Minnie Riperton,
Cybotron,
Anthony Braxton,
Q and Not U,
Sister Nancy,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.