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 Samoa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Subhumans to the funk 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Tomorrow,
Vainqueur,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masters at Work,
Loose Ends,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slave,
Ten City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Near,
Juan Atkins,
CMW,
Dual Sessions,
Joyce Sims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fad Gadget,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lower 48,
Scratch Acid,
Minnie Riperton,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
These Immortal Souls,
Mad Mike,
Tears for Fears,
Charles Mingus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Green,
A Certain Ratio,
The Seeds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Sonics,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
OOIOO,
Vladislav Delay,
Drexciya,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brothers Johnson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eden Ahbez,
Kurtis Blow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
The Toasters,
The Evens,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Interpol,
The Happenings,
Gong,
Surgeon,
Soft Machine,
Deadbeat,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Scrapy,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.