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 El Salvador and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mary Jane Girls to the crunk 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
LL Cool J,
The Motions,
Rekid,
Moby Grape,
the Normal,
the Sonics,
Hashim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Khruangbin,
Aswad,
Lucky Dragons,
Donny Hathaway,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Davy DMX,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David McCallum,
Grey Daturas,
Shuggie Otis,
H. Thieme,
Susan Cadogan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Country Teasers,
the Human League,
Japan,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
Das Ding,
Sandy B,
Kaleidoscope,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Godley & Creme,
Faraquet,
The New Christs,
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Mills,
Kenny Larkin,
Motorama,
The Offenders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Supertramp,
Brand Nubian,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Pop Group,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Standells,
Minnie Riperton,
Eden Ahbez,
Alton Ellis,
Panda Bear,
Fad Gadget,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anthony Braxton,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.