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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
Vladislav Delay,
Kayak,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Doors,
The Zeros,
Depeche Mode,
Tim Buckley,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grauzone,
Ohio Players,
Mars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lyres,
Ludus,
Cecil Taylor,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
Porter Ricks,
X-102,
The Residents,
Rufus Thomas,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Darondo,
David Bowie,
The Monochrome Set,
Monks,
Pagans,
Gichy Dan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Country Teasers,
K-Klass,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bill Near,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wolf Eyes,
Funky Four + One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bush Tetras,
E-Dancer,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fortunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Sherman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
R.M.O.,
Organ,
Sandy B,
Bang On A Can,
Anthony Braxton,
Fear,
Janne Schatter,
Lakeside,
Joe Smooth,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.