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 Liechtenstein and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
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 synthesizer 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
Chrome,
Cheater Slicks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
H. Thieme,
Joy Division,
Brothers Johnson,
Ice-T,
Aswad,
Lou Reed,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pulsallama,
The Mummies,
Hashim,
T.S.O.L.,
Can,
Sixth Finger,
Japan,
Jandek,
Ten City,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Los Fastidios,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
Monks,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camberwell Now,
Lalann,
Soul Sonic Force,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soft Cell,
Maurizio,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Radio Birdman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Association,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neu!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
Altered Images,
The Blackbyrds,
The Grass Roots,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radiohead,
The Fuzztones,
The Moleskins,
The Count Five,
Fear,
Das Ding,
Soft Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ituana,
Bauhaus,
World's Most,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.