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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the jazz 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sam Rivers,
The Golliwogs,
Wally Richardson,
Little Man,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maurizio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lalann,
Eli Mardock,
Make Up,
Hasil Adkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mission of Burma,
Pagans,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Icehouse,
Depeche Mode,
Dead Boys,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tomorrow,
Steve Hackett,
Shuggie Otis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soft Cell,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Zeros,
The Cure,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ken Boothe,
Eve St. Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ossler,
James White and The Blacks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suburban Knight,
Index,
The Raincoats,
the Association,
Avey Tare,
Drexciya,
Sugar Minott,
Barclay James Harvest,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gap Band,
The Martian,
Massinfluence,
Prince Buster,
Reagan Youth,
Moby Grape,
Magazine,
the Normal,
The Real Kids,
Infiniti,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Pop Group,
Theoretical Girls,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.