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 Bahrain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Pulsallama to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Nirvana,
The Walker Brothers,
Groovy Waters,
Television,
Rufus Thomas,
Derrick Morgan,
Derrick May,
F. McDonald,
Girls At Our Best!,
Warsaw,
Magazine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
New Age Steppers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DJ Sneak,
Niagra,
Harmonia,
Parry Music,
The Moody Blues,
Blossom Toes,
Sound Behaviour,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
E-Dancer,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tommy Roe,
the Bar-Kays,
Silicon Teens,
Kayak,
Heaven 17,
Scion,
Von Mondo,
Newcleus,
Shuggie Otis,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
L. Decosne,
Agent Orange,
Bobbi Humphrey,
cv313,
Terry Callier,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Albert Ayler,
The Tremeloes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Franke,
Sun Ra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gories,
Fela Kuti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nils Olav,
The Mummies,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Easy Going,
The Gun Club,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.