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 Argentina and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wally Richardson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Delta 5,
DJ Style,
Rotary Connection,
Echospace,
Gang Gang Dance,
Morten Harket,
Reuben Wilson,
the Association,
The Cure,
Q65,
Circle Jerks,
Schoolly D,
The Offenders,
Bang On A Can,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
One Last Wish,
Roxy Music,
Lakeside,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crime,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moody Blues,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gladiators,
The Vogues,
Iggy Pop,
Stiv Bators,
Nik Kershaw,
The Slackers,
Symarip,
Barry Ungar,
Deadbeat,
Banda Bassotti,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chris & Cosey,
Saccharine Trust,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Mark Hollis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Parrish,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Moby Grape,
The Motions,
Audionom,
Bizarre Inc.,
Guru Guru,
Interpol,
The Raincoats,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boredoms,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.