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 Afghanistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-Ray Spex to the rock 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Sun Ra,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Barrington Levy,
The Velvet Underground,
Yaz,
The Gories,
JFA,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Electric Prunes,
The Names,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Holt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pulsallama,
Soft Machine,
The Searchers,
Slick Rick,
Al Stewart,
Rekid,
The Victims,
The Happenings,
Panda Bear,
John Coltrane,
Severed Heads,
Ponytail,
Q and Not U,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smoke,
Lightning Bolt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ice-T,
Soulsonic Force,
Michelle Simonal,
Faust,
Siglo XX,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Prunes,
Zero Boys,
Bill Wells,
This Heat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dawn Penn,
June Days,
Jeff Lynne,
Vainqueur,
Hot Snakes,
Depeche Mode,
Crime,
Silicon Teens,
Mark Hollis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Green,
Funkadelic,
Jacques Brel,
Darondo,
Don Cherry,
John Lydon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
Hashim,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.