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 St Lucia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
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 oboe 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 Marvin Gaye to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Scientists,
Pere Ubu,
Mr. Review,
Moebius,
Bobby Sherman,
Grauzone,
Erasure,
Anthony Braxton,
Marvin Gaye,
Motorama,
Easy Going,
Porter Ricks,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
E-Dancer,
Faraquet,
Matthew Bourne,
Ice-T,
Accadde A,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nik Kershaw,
Magazine,
Slave,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Black Sheep,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Althea and Donna,
Camberwell Now,
Slick Rick,
The Standells,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
Robert Hood,
Glenn Branca,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mark Hollis,
John Holt,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Joy Division,
Junior Murvin,
Mars,
Lungfish,
Chris & Cosey,
The Doobie Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Sixth Finger,
John Coltrane,
Cymande,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.