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 Brunei and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Donald Fagen 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 Letta Mbulu to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood,
Crash Course in Science,
Scan 7,
Darondo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Moon,
Magma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Laurel Aitken,
The Vogues,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Scion,
Morten Harket,
Mission of Burma,
Jacques Brel,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
David Axelrod,
Flash Fearless,
Lungfish,
the Swans,
The Human League,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Howard Jones,
Ronnie Foster,
Crooked Eye,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Terry,
Ice-T,
Angry Samoans,
Goldenarms,
Alphaville,
Thompson Twins,
Skarface,
Duran Duran,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Boogie Down Productions,
Smog,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
KRS-One,
Magazine,
Suicide,
Television Personalities,
ABBA,
Drive Like Jehu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Todd Rundgren,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sisters of Mercy,
L. Decosne,
New Order,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Surgeon,
Gang Starr,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.