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 Armenia and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ronnie Foster to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Happenings,
The Knickerbockers,
Bluetip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Litter,
Rapeman,
Mr. Review,
Lucky Dragons,
Absolute Body Control,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magazine,
Procol Harum,
Mars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jawbox,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cameo,
Scratch Acid,
Organ,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spandau Ballet,
Aloha Tigers,
the Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Finger,
Mission of Burma,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Durutti Column,
The Monks,
Brand Nubian,
Quantec,
Lindisfarne,
Desert Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Echospace,
Ralphi Rosario,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scientists,
Matthew Bourne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New Order,
Fad Gadget,
Aswad,
Eli Mardock,
Public Enemy,
The Remains,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brothers Johnson,
The Index,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pagans,
Popol Vuh,
Quando Quango,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yaz,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
Eddi Front,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.