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 East Timor and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Neil Young to the electroclash 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fela Kuti,
Hasil Adkins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
Eddi Front,
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABBA,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
Symarip,
Radiohead,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alphaville,
X-101,
Henry Cow,
kango's stein massive,
Faraquet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kurtis Blow,
The Moody Blues,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Birthday Party,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang of Four,
H. Thieme,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Japan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Hill,
Lee Hazlewood,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Khruangbin,
Derrick Morgan,
The Durutti Column,
Soft Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
The J.B.'s,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
Aswad,
The Toasters,
Wally Richardson,
Toni Rubio,
Duran Duran,
the Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cramps,
Pylon,
Traffic Nightmare,
MDC,
Stetsasonic,
Arcadia,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.