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 Serbia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Underground Resistance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Fatback Band,
Sam Rivers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Starr,
Eli Mardock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
MDC,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Hashim,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
CMW,
Nils Olav,
Yellowson,
Main Source,
Severed Heads,
Steve Hackett,
Dual Sessions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Tremeloes,
Colin Newman,
Jacques Brel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Holt,
Tommy Roe,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Association,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pagans,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Star Department,
Mars,
Oblivians,
Lyres,
DJ Sneak,
Banda Bassotti,
Popol Vuh,
the Bar-Kays,
Y Pants,
John Lydon,
Faust,
8 Eyed Spy,
Public Enemy,
Babytalk,
Maleditus Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Adolescents,
David Axelrod,
The Sound,
Jeff Mills,
Wings,
Minnie Riperton,
New Order,
The Beau Brummels,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.