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 Russia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Byrd to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Glambeats Corp.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deadbeat,
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Names,
Althea and Donna,
Parry Music,
Warren Ellis,
Gabor Szabo,
The Golliwogs,
Yazoo,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Divine Comedy,
Fela Kuti,
Severed Heads,
Minnie Riperton,
The Leaves,
Pantytec,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Unrelated Segments,
Royal Trux,
Barbara Tucker,
Judy Mowatt,
Mark Hollis,
China Crisis,
Sam Rivers,
Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
The Busters,
Ice-T,
Roxy Music,
Theoretical Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Spandau Ballet,
Tears for Fears,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Evens,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun City Girls,
Animal Collective,
Magma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
These Immortal Souls,
X-101,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fugs,
Sugar Minott,
The Toasters,
The Misunderstood,
The Fuzztones,
The Birthday Party,
Crooked Eye,
Procol Harum,
The Vogues,
The Index,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.