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 Brazil and from London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 The Cowsills to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Isaac Hayes,
Wally Richardson,
Warsaw,
Maleditus Sound,
Procol Harum,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Juan Atkins,
Newcleus,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
John Cale,
Visage,
Soft Machine,
Scan 7,
Darondo,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Suicide,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sam Rivers,
Nirvana,
The Birthday Party,
The Residents,
Can,
The Pretty Things,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare,
Los Fastidios,
The Barracudas,
Ice-T,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tommy Roe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Eric Dolphy,
The New Christs,
UT,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Model 500,
Tomorrow,
The Red Krayola,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fela Kuti,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Second Layer,
Albert Ayler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wolf Eyes,
Roger Hodgson,
Aural Exciters,
Nils Olav,
Hoover,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Real Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gap Band,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.