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 Chad and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Throbbing Gristle to the disco 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Clear Light,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Prince Buster,
Lungfish,
Black Bananas,
Essential Logic,
Mo-Dettes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Anthony Braxton,
June Days,
Mark Hollis,
Glenn Branca,
The Buckinghams,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
Ten City,
Half Japanese,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camberwell Now,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Fela Kuti,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Busters,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Byrd,
Banda Bassotti,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quantec,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultravox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Metal Thangz,
David Bowie,
The Music Machine,
Ponytail,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bob Dylan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Radio Birdman,
Drexciya,
Second Layer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Bar-Kays,
Nirvana,
Y Pants,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlback,
Freddie Wadling,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jawbox,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.