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 Costa Rica and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alison Limerick to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Marmalade,
Flash Fearless,
Fatback Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Index,
the Slits,
Vainqueur,
The Doors,
Technova,
The Grass Roots,
Roxy Music,
Barry Ungar,
Gang Starr,
Magma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wire,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yellowson,
Echospace,
Radiohead,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Heaven 17,
Television,
OOIOO,
the Human League,
The Five Americans,
Amon Düül II,
Johnny Clarke,
Scion,
R.M.O.,
Bang On A Can,
Sight & Sound,
The Fall,
Urselle,
Q and Not U,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Finger,
Kenny Larkin,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Audionom,
Dorothy Ashby,
Negative Approach,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rod Modell,
Nas,
The Kinks,
Moss Icon,
Fluxion,
Al Stewart,
48th St. Collective,
Pagans,
Stiv Bators,
Rapeman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Adolescents,
Mars,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.