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 Turkmenistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer 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 La Düsseldorf to the rock 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Arcadia,
The Fall,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Terry Callier,
Maurizio,
Tomorrow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
F. McDonald,
The Kinks,
Average White Band,
David McCallum,
Dorothy Ashby,
Porter Ricks,
DJ Style,
Cal Tjader,
the Human League,
The Seeds,
the Swans,
The Monks,
Josef K,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kenny Larkin,
Thee Headcoats,
Sarah Menescal,
Davy DMX,
Robert Wyatt,
Tubeway Army,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boredoms,
Joyce Sims,
Moebius,
Yusef Lateef,
Scrapy,
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
8 Eyed Spy,
June Days,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roger Hodgson,
Rufus Thomas,
John Lydon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mr. Review,
the Sonics,
Janne Schatter,
David Bowie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skarface,
Johnny Clarke,
Negative Approach,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-Ray Spex,
ABBA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Intrusion,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.