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 Sudan and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
A Certain Ratio,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harmonia,
Nico,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Talk Talk,
Model 500,
The Evens,
Nirvana,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pantytec,
U.S. Maple,
Livin' Joy,
The Move,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Terry,
Marmalade,
The Gories,
Wasted Youth,
Tomorrow,
Eric Dolphy,
Bauhaus,
Ronnie Foster,
Hoover,
K-Klass,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Second Layer,
Scan 7,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Foxx,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Arcadia,
Pussy Galore,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Black Dice,
Lakeside,
The Music Machine,
Zapp,
Von Mondo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
Sex Pistols,
10cc,
Sällskapet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Sonics,
Tres Demented,
The Young Rascals,
Amon Düül II,
Joyce Sims,
ABC,
Aural Exciters,
Blake Baxter,
Faust,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scott Walker,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.