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 Poland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dark Day to the grime 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Sarah Menescal,
The Raincoats,
Wire,
Girls At Our Best!,
Inner City,
The Wake,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dave Clark Five,
Freddie Wadling,
Lakeside,
X-101,
Television Personalities,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Angels of Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Stetsasonic,
X-Ray Spex,
Skriet,
Albert Ayler,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sällskapet,
Fat Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacob Miller,
Swans,
Chris Corsano,
These Immortal Souls,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fire Engines,
Scientists,
Graham Central Station,
Barclay James Harvest,
Glambeats Corp.,
Quadrant,
Bobby Womack,
Angry Samoans,
The Evens,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Janne Schatter,
Jeff Mills,
The Barracudas,
Juan Atkins,
China Crisis,
This Heat,
Cymande,
Letta Mbulu,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monochrome Set,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultravox,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.