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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron 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 David Bowie to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Smiths,
Underground Resistance,
Ultra Naté,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barbara Tucker,
Al Stewart,
Barclay James Harvest,
Monks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Young Rascals,
The Toasters,
Brass Construction,
Minutemen,
Model 500,
This Heat,
Franke,
the Fania All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Funkadelic,
The Remains,
World's Most,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dawn Penn,
T. Rex,
Gang Green,
Hoover,
Chris & Cosey,
Buzzcocks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Index,
Fugazi,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Maurizio,
Sound Behaviour,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Echospace,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doors,
Warren Ellis,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker,
The Names,
Crime,
The Raincoats,
Massinfluence,
Subhumans,
John Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
Babytalk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nas,
Bob Dylan,
Blake Baxter,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Blancmange,
Livin' Joy,
Camouflage,
The Red Krayola,
Suburban Knight,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.