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 Albania and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Agent Orange to the grime 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Youth Brigade,
Panda Bear,
Dark Day,
The Divine Comedy,
The Searchers,
Howard Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Throbbing Gristle,
Severed Heads,
Donny Hathaway,
Lou Reed,
Popol Vuh,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Wyatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeff Lynne,
Desert Stars,
The Skatalites,
John Holt,
10cc,
Cymande,
Henry Cow,
The Trojans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
CMW,
Cal Tjader,
The Monks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultra Naté,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
The Human League,
Mars,
The Gories,
R.M.O.,
Cecil Taylor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DJ Style,
Infiniti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantaleimon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Grass Roots,
Morten Harket,
L. Decosne,
Thompson Twins,
Spoonie Gee,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
David Bowie,
The Saints,
Cheater Slicks,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.