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 Benin and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 L. Decosne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Tommy Roe,
CMW,
Mark Hollis,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
Yazoo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mummies,
The Offenders,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hoover,
Minnie Riperton,
Ponytail,
Moby Grape,
the Association,
Bauhaus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun City Girls,
The Slackers,
Magma,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mojo Men,
Soul II Soul,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Television Personalities,
Second Layer,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun Ra,
B.T. Express,
Groovy Waters,
Neu!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Visage,
Gichy Dan,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry's Kids,
Quando Quango,
Faraquet,
Goldenarms,
The Velvet Underground,
Ohio Players,
Ituana,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Move,
Skarface,
Brick,
The Knickerbockers,
Altered Images,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Almond,
Yaz,
Scrapy,
Slick Rick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Franke,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.