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 Uruguay and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Donald Fagen 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 Cure to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Roger Hodgson,
Jacques Brel,
Wally Richardson,
Drexciya,
Tres Demented,
The Skatalites,
Moebius,
Brass Construction,
Yusef Lateef,
Pet Shop Boys,
Funkadelic,
Isaac Hayes,
Prince Buster,
Marcia Griffiths,
kango's stein massive,
Banda Bassotti,
Marc Almond,
In Retrospect,
Man Eating Sloth,
Panda Bear,
Lower 48,
The Evens,
Section 25,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hoover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
FM Einheit,
MC5,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Chris & Cosey,
Crime,
ABC,
Alison Limerick,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minor Threat,
The Names,
Marshall Jefferson,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
U.S. Maple,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The United States of America,
the Soft Cell,
Sarah Menescal,
Moby Grape,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
Mark Hollis,
Vladislav Delay,
The Divine Comedy,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Pretty Things,
Slave,
Angry Samoans,
The Durutti Column,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.