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 Antigua and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Matthew Bourne to the techno 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 Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jeff Lynne,
Boredoms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
Buzzcocks,
Qualms,
Suburban Knight,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
T. Rex,
David Axelrod,
Andrew Hill,
Alison Limerick,
Ohio Players,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Residents,
Hot Snakes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül II,
Albert Ayler,
Oblivians,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dave Clark Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Porter Ricks,
Sound Behaviour,
Swell Maps,
Pere Ubu,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Almond,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flipper,
Mission of Burma,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mummies,
Nick Fraelich,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tears for Fears,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Sonics,
Supertramp,
The Stooges,
Vainqueur,
Idris Muhammad,
Rekid,
H. Thieme,
Aswad,
Funky Four + One,
Jacob Miller,
The Leaves,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.