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 Burundi and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lucky Dragons,
Groovy Waters,
Joe Finger,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Second Layer,
The Durutti Column,
Depeche Mode,
Loose Ends,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
In Retrospect,
LL Cool J,
Adolescents,
This Heat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sugar Minott,
Ten City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Delta 5,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lakeside,
Roxette,
The Raincoats,
Lyres,
Toni Rubio,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gories,
Hasil Adkins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Interpol,
Bang On A Can,
The Searchers,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Starr,
Yellowson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Camouflage,
Mr. Review,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Moody Blues,
The Stooges,
The New Christs,
Marine Girls,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
The Smiths,
Lou Christie,
Silicon Teens,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gabor Szabo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Los Fastidios,
MC5,
Lungfish,
Derrick Morgan,
Babytalk,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.