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 Vietnam and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Deadbeat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Freddie Wadling,
Y Pants,
Cal Tjader,
Negative Approach,
Robert Wyatt,
Faust,
Accadde A,
The Victims,
Terry Callier,
Nils Olav,
The Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Intrusion,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sam Rivers,
Wally Richardson,
Radiohead,
Morten Harket,
Main Source,
Michelle Simonal,
The Birthday Party,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stereo Dub,
Maurizio,
Pussy Galore,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joe Finger,
Rod Modell,
Lindisfarne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Beau Brummels,
Schoolly D,
Todd Terry,
Sister Nancy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül II,
Ten City,
Magma,
Unrelated Segments,
Harmonia,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
China Crisis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cybotron,
Donald Byrd,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gang Starr,
The Angels of Light,
Wire,
Darondo,
The Star Department,
Spandau Ballet,
Grauzone,
a-ha,
Siglo XX,
Joe Smooth,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine 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.