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 Chile and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Average White Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Maleditus Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Skriet,
10cc,
Pierre Henry,
Bill Wells,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Liliput,
The Alarm Clocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crash Course in Science,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
Organ,
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Theoretical Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Trumans Water,
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reuben Wilson,
New Age Steppers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Misunderstood,
Negative Approach,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tears for Fears,
L. Decosne,
The Fortunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Shoche,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Masters at Work,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonic Youth,
Talk Talk,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
Nirvana,
KRS-One,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
R.M.O.,
Althea and Donna,
Fat Boys,
Henry Cow,
Mission of Burma,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül,
Unrelated Segments,
Zero Boys,
kango's stein massive,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.