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 Honduras and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kayak to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Buckinghams,
The Doobie Brothers,
Neu!,
Deakin,
The Names,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Second Layer,
Sun Ra,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
The Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fuzztones,
The Invisible,
Wally Richardson,
John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camouflage,
Goldenarms,
Thompson Twins,
Absolute Body Control,
The Move,
the Association,
Porter Ricks,
John Holt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Symarip,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kayak,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Au Pairs,
Infiniti,
Faust,
DNA,
T. Rex,
Jeru the Damaja,
Excepter,
Jacques Brel,
In Retrospect,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Slick Rick,
Sandy B,
Groovy Waters,
UT,
Main Source,
Kool Moe Dee,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Toni Rubio,
Depeche Mode,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soulsonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.