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 Niger and from Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 The Doobie Brothers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dave Gahan,
UT,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang of Four,
Dark Day,
the Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
Michelle Simonal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dawn Penn,
Kas Product,
Lyres,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mojo Men,
Skaos,
Flash Fearless,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
The Residents,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Slits,
The Misunderstood,
The Grass Roots,
The Index,
Byron Stingily,
Rosa Yemen,
Franke,
The Mummies,
The Knickerbockers,
Scratch Acid,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Arcadia,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sound,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
The United States of America,
The Stooges,
Simply Red,
Thee Headcoats,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric Dolphy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bang On A Can,
Jeff Mills,
The J.B.'s,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Vladislav Delay,
Sight & Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yazoo,
Hot Snakes,
Flamin' Groovies,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young,
Audionom,
Quando Quango,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.