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 Congo and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Kerri Chandler 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mummies,
Gang Starr,
Motorama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rakim,
Grauzone,
Main Source,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
Faraquet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cheater Slicks,
Smog,
The Leaves,
Charles Mingus,
K-Klass,
Wire,
John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gun Club,
Severed Heads,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hoover,
The Motions,
Barry Ungar,
kango's stein massive,
Swans,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Sherman,
David McCallum,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
Iggy Pop,
U.S. Maple,
Das Ding,
Audionom,
Lungfish,
Scientists,
Groovy Waters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joyce Sims,
The Gap Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Graham Central Station,
Roxy Music,
Andrew Hill,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
Tim Buckley,
Albert Ayler,
Ken Boothe,
World's Most,
Kayak,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
Clear Light,
Monks,
10cc,
Mark Hollis,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.