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 France and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
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 organ 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Cameo,
Basic Channel,
The Remains,
Duran Duran,
Hashim,
Icehouse,
Funkadelic,
Buzzcocks,
Wire,
the Swans,
Absolute Body Control,
Pussy Galore,
The Smiths,
Joey Negro,
H. Thieme,
Motorama,
CMW,
Wolf Eyes,
Lakeside,
Pole,
David Axelrod,
New Order,
Deadbeat,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Coltrane,
Donald Byrd,
Glenn Branca,
Johnny Clarke,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Unrelated Segments,
Dave Gahan,
Henry Cow,
Kerri Chandler,
Minnie Riperton,
Public Image Ltd.,
ABBA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Depeche Mode,
This Heat,
Reagan Youth,
Youth Brigade,
The Evens,
Scan 7,
The Birthday Party,
Loose Ends,
Man Parrish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Seeds,
Little Man,
New York Dolls,
Zapp,
The Invisible,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Reed,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Grauzone,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.