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 Cape Verde and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 The Happenings to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Bill Wells,
The Barracudas,
Deadbeat,
Fear,
Flipper,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radio Birdman,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sound,
Lou Reed,
The Moody Blues,
Gichy Dan,
Darondo,
The Wake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Khruangbin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Johnny Osbourne,
L. Decosne,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Görl,
Reuben Wilson,
Quadrant,
Depeche Mode,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Electric Light Orchestra,
T.S.O.L.,
Radiopuhelimet,
The United States of America,
The Smiths,
Jeff Lynne,
Eurythmics,
Shuggie Otis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minutemen,
Boz Scaggs,
The Busters,
Gabor Szabo,
Neu!,
This Heat,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Wyatt,
John Foxx,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Sonics,
Organ,
Faraquet,
The Techniques,
Monks,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
The Saints,
Swans,
Rakim,
ABC,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.