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 Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Frankie Knuckles to the disco 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Section 25,
Parry Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aloha Tigers,
Pierre Henry,
John Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
John Foxx,
In Retrospect,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Guru Guru,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Last Poets,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mad Mike,
Arthur Verocai,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Suburban Knight,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mr. Review,
The Leaves,
Carl Craig,
Maleditus Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boredoms,
Faust,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now,
Quando Quango,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glambeats Corp.,
Letta Mbulu,
Second Layer,
Public Image Ltd.,
Shoche,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fugazi,
The Tremeloes,
Qualms,
Fela Kuti,
The Associates,
Black Pus,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amazonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Laurel Aitken,
Lakeside,
Iggy Pop,
H. Thieme,
the Germs,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.