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 Bulgaria and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Livin' Joy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
The Slits,
Deakin,
David Axelrod,
Pulsallama,
Rosa Yemen,
John Foxx,
The Neon Judgement,
The Saints,
Shuggie Otis,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Görl,
Delta 5,
UT,
Trumans Water,
Barrington Levy,
EPMD,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Vogues,
Technova,
OOIOO,
The Blackbyrds,
Flipper,
Donny Hathaway,
Visage,
PIL,
The Golliwogs,
The Human League,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry's Kids,
Japan,
Iggy Pop,
Prince Buster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suicide,
One Last Wish,
Archie Shepp,
the Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Shoche,
Spoonie Gee,
The Residents,
Bob Dylan,
Cymande,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Moon,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Young Rascals,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pole,
Ludus,
Marc Almond,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vladislav Delay,
John Coltrane,
Simply Red,
Deepchord,
Can,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.