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 China and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Suicide to the rock 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Hood,
Robert Wyatt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scion,
The Motions,
Faust,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yaz,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
Pole,
Ornette Coleman,
The Barracudas,
Public Enemy,
the Normal,
Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
Procol Harum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rod Modell,
The Evens,
Ponytail,
New York Dolls,
Chris & Cosey,
Pylon,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Techniques,
Circle Jerks,
Clear Light,
Little Man,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eli Mardock,
Nick Fraelich,
John Cale,
The Move,
Eve St. Jones,
Ken Boothe,
Kayak,
Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Minutemen,
The Skatalites,
The Slackers,
Sonic Youth,
Goldenarms,
Negative Approach,
Main Source,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Das Ding,
Dawn Penn,
Terrestrial Tones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
ABBA,
Roxy Music,
Tomorrow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.