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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Model 500 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Byrd,
Barbara Tucker,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
Symarip,
The Stooges,
Absolute Body Control,
Prince Buster,
Terrestrial Tones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Danielle Patucci,
Slave,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rites of Spring,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Kinks,
FM Einheit,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
Ten City,
Con Funk Shun,
Quando Quango,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
kango's stein massive,
Tomorrow,
Magazine,
Arab on Radar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Rundgren,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Raincoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Techniques,
Masters at Work,
Negative Approach,
Lungfish,
Bauhaus,
Chrome,
The Monks,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Iggy Pop,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
The Cure,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bad Manners,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.