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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Second Layer to the dance 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra,
The Cramps,
John Foxx,
Jandek,
Joey Negro,
D'Angelo,
Fatback Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Marine Girls,
The Zeros,
The Mummies,
Derrick Morgan,
Sonic Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Bush Tetras,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Hood,
The Offenders,
Bill Near,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fear,
Ronan,
Pantaleimon,
The Human League,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Metal Thangz,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
Erykah Badu,
The Gories,
The Music Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Skaos,
DJ Style,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
The American Breed,
These Immortal Souls,
Gabor Szabo,
Sister Nancy,
Eli Mardock,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bizarre Inc.,
Absolute Body Control,
Flipper,
The Remains,
Niagra,
Swell Maps,
The Fall,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Light Orchestra,
This Heat,
Pulsallama,
Nik Kershaw,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.