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 Brazil and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
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 arpeggiator 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 Saints to the punk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Finger,
Royal Trux,
The Blackbyrds,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scientists,
Junior Murvin,
Banda Bassotti,
Connie Case,
Absolute Body Control,
Michelle Simonal,
The Knickerbockers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Henry Cow,
Ronnie Foster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Desert Stars,
The Raincoats,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Beasts of Bourbon,
KRS-One,
Moebius,
Piero Umiliani,
Curtis Mayfield,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Fat Boys,
Simply Red,
Brick,
The Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Lakeside,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeru the Damaja,
James Chance & The Contortions,
JFA,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Moon,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minnie Riperton,
Maleditus Sound,
Siglo XX,
Das Ding,
Ralphi Rosario,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eli Mardock,
Magma,
Gang Green,
Cecil Taylor,
Patti Smith,
Cameo,
DNA,
Groovy Waters,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.