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 Portugal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bush Tetras to the dance 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Dirtbombs,
Swans,
the Fania All-Stars,
PIL,
Minor Threat,
Barbara Tucker,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
F. McDonald,
Zapp,
Faust,
Icehouse,
June of 44,
UT,
Metal Thangz,
Minutemen,
Susan Cadogan,
Steve Hackett,
Andrew Hill,
Girls At Our Best!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Monks,
The United States of America,
Index,
Average White Band,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vladislav Delay,
T. Rex,
Jawbox,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
Barclay James Harvest,
Goldenarms,
Kayak,
Radio Birdman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Duran Duran,
KRS-One,
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Piero Umiliani,
Niagra,
Tres Demented,
Can,
the Human League,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Swans,
Moebius,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Urselle,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Copeland,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Easy Going,
MC5,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.