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 South Sudan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 The Residents to the funk 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dead C,
Depeche Mode,
Franke,
Tomorrow,
The Motions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stereo Dub,
Bang On A Can,
Suburban Knight,
Godley & Creme,
New Order,
Yazoo,
Lower 48,
The Gories,
Rosa Yemen,
Anakelly,
Niagra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Main Source,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Martian,
Warsaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Glambeats Corp.,
Agent Orange,
Rekid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sällskapet,
The Sound,
The Techniques,
Sparks,
Ten City,
Scientists,
Surgeon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moss Icon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ice-T,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Unrelated Segments,
the Association,
Quadrant,
The United States of America,
Radio Birdman,
Von Mondo,
Chris Corsano,
Neu!,
The Birthday Party,
Kerri Chandler,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
Scratch Acid,
Judy Mowatt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.