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 Brunei and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Amon Düül to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Womack,
Moby Grape,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
In Retrospect,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Lydon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Television,
Nils Olav,
David Bowie,
The Stooges,
Yellowson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liliput,
The Zeros,
Panda Bear,
Main Source,
Q and Not U,
Funky Four + One,
The Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jawbox,
Steve Hackett,
Bang On A Can,
Al Stewart,
Rites of Spring,
Mars,
the Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ten City,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Urselle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fortunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Bad Manners,
Section 25,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gap Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arcadia,
Malaria!,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Young Rascals,
Talk Talk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Flipper,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Byrd,
Ituana,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.