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 Mali and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Easy Going to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Roger Hodgson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Buzzcocks,
The Five Americans,
The Slackers,
The United States of America,
The Evens,
Albert Ayler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultravox,
The American Breed,
Jeff Lynne,
Maurizio,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sonics,
Boredoms,
Spandau Ballet,
June of 44,
ABC,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Faust,
In Retrospect,
Sarah Menescal,
June Days,
Alison Limerick,
Godley & Creme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rufus Thomas,
Juan Atkins,
The Mojo Men,
Mr. Review,
Black Bananas,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
Vladislav Delay,
Nick Fraelich,
Jandek,
John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Aural Exciters,
Moby Grape,
Maleditus Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Adolescents,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
kango's stein massive,
The Toasters,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Mills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sugar Minott,
Charles Mingus,
PIL,
The Leaves,
The Sound,
Ponytail,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.