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 Ethiopia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Mars to the techno 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Michelle Simonal,
Scan 7,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxy Music,
The Fall,
London Community Gospel Choir,
E-Dancer,
Black Pus,
Todd Terry,
Eli Mardock,
Dead Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mark Hollis,
Model 500,
Tomorrow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Whodini,
Aural Exciters,
The Grass Roots,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Infiniti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mojo Men,
Marc Almond,
Henry Cow,
The Fugs,
Ituana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fela Kuti,
Scion,
Black Bananas,
Kenny Larkin,
Kerri Chandler,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Das Ding,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mummies,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Holt,
Wings,
Brand Nubian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABBA,
Spoonie Gee,
China Crisis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Animal Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Neu!,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moleskins,
Thee Headcoats,
Heaven 17,
Simply Red,
Janne Schatter,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.