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 Mexico and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Robert Wyatt,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Icehouse,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sarah Menescal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cymande,
Brand Nubian,
The Invisible,
Ponytail,
Skriet,
Ken Boothe,
Fela Kuti,
Goldenarms,
E-Dancer,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Oneida,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dead Boys,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jimmy McGriff,
The New Christs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Q65,
Fear,
Hot Snakes,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lower 48,
Patti Smith,
Dennis Brown,
The Standells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Toni Rubio,
Bill Wells,
Fat Boys,
LL Cool J,
Siglo XX,
Agent Orange,
Mission of Burma,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare,
Hardrive,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
Slick Rick,
The Red Krayola,
Dark Day,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.