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 Kyrgyzstan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Accra.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Terry Callier 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Offenders,
Unrelated Segments,
The United States of America,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
Quantec,
Soulsonic Force,
Magazine,
Parry Music,
The Saints,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
A Certain Ratio,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Clear Light,
Colin Newman,
Oneida,
Lightning Bolt,
Joe Smooth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
Chris Corsano,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Eric Dolphy,
New Age Steppers,
Sparks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
La Düsseldorf,
the Germs,
FM Einheit,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Make Up,
Das Ding,
Sandy B,
Bill Near,
Jeff Mills,
Moby Grape,
The Barracudas,
Aaron Thompson,
The Velvet Underground,
Harpers Bizarre,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
The Wake,
Depeche Mode,
Intrusion,
Severed Heads,
Rod Modell,
K-Klass,
the Association,
The Cure,
Television,
The Raincoats,
Fat Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Michelle Simonal,
Tubeway Army,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.