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 Finland and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
The Associates,
Deakin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Duran Duran,
Black Pus,
Symarip,
Avey Tare,
Henry Cow,
Juan Atkins,
Judy Mowatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Massinfluence,
Iggy Pop,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mr. Review,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Leonard Cohen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lee Hazlewood,
David Bowie,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
Oblivians,
Radiohead,
Sight & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
X-101,
Lalann,
Quantec,
Icehouse,
Radio Birdman,
Cal Tjader,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Lydon,
The Fugs,
Scrapy,
Sonic Youth,
Theoretical Girls,
Liliput,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Amazonics,
The Move,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sister Nancy,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Hill,
David McCallum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Remains,
The Leaves,
Mandrill,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gladiators,
Neil Young,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.