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 Tanzania and from Columbus.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Detroit Cobras,
Funkadelic,
The Offenders,
The Barracudas,
Arab on Radar,
Lebanon Hanover,
Magazine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lucky Dragons,
The Skatalites,
Radiohead,
Neu!,
Swans,
Aloha Tigers,
Procol Harum,
The Misunderstood,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Almond,
Malaria!,
Babytalk,
Harmonia,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Graham Central Station,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minor Threat,
Das Ding,
Bobby Byrd,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Young Rascals,
The Star Department,
Khruangbin,
Josef K,
Kurtis Blow,
Lakeside,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jacques Brel,
Panda Bear,
Marmalade,
Ornette Coleman,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Hood,
The Pretty Things,
The Zeros,
Bob Dylan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter and Kerry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Angels of Light,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed,
Young Marble Giants,
MDC,
Funky Four + One,
Simply Red,
The Gap Band,
Wally Richardson,
The Music Machine,
Tres Demented,
Howard Jones,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.