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 Montenegro and from Bologna.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Matthew Halsall to the rock 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-102,
The Doors,
Alice Coltrane,
Ponytail,
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Agent Orange,
Sparks,
Khruangbin,
Morten Harket,
Angry Samoans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Swans,
Heaven 17,
The Happenings,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rapeman,
Bang On A Can,
The Busters,
Excepter,
Blake Baxter,
Scan 7,
Swans,
UT,
Intrusion,
Lightning Bolt,
Desert Stars,
Supertramp,
David Axelrod,
Lindisfarne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
China Crisis,
New Age Steppers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Techniques,
Gong,
Gichy Dan,
The United States of America,
Flash Fearless,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
kango's stein massive,
David McCallum,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Pierre Henry,
10cc,
Idris Muhammad,
Stiv Bators,
Q65,
John Lydon,
Babytalk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.