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 Zambia and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the dance 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Minny Pops,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gong,
Max Romeo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Associates,
Section 25,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Carl Craig,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boz Scaggs,
The Red Krayola,
Scion,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
Sex Pistols,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Kinks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Selecter,
Tears for Fears,
Bauhaus,
The Martian,
Talk Talk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
K-Klass,
Wings,
Average White Band,
ABC,
Ice-T,
Jeff Lynne,
Roxette,
Amazonics,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
LL Cool J,
The Pop Group,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Loose Ends,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Todd Rundgren,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Trumans Water,
Erykah Badu,
Unwound,
The Doobie Brothers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Tremeloes,
Susan Cadogan,
Amon Düül II,
The Durutti Column,
Ken Boothe,
Shuggie Otis,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.