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 Latvia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Rites of Spring to the punk 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now 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?
Terrestrial Tones,
Hot Snakes,
F. McDonald,
The Dirtbombs,
Chris & Cosey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
cv313,
The Index,
Accadde A,
Sällskapet,
Young Marble Giants,
Slave,
The Techniques,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scrapy,
Loose Ends,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
In Retrospect,
The Doors,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soul II Soul,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Associates,
Rod Modell,
Franke,
Visage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Susan Cadogan,
Interpol,
The Slackers,
Livin' Joy,
Public Image Ltd.,
MDC,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arthur Verocai,
Massinfluence,
The Fuzztones,
Intrusion,
Rakim,
Alison Limerick,
David McCallum,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grey Daturas,
The Modern Lovers,
Joyce Sims,
Jandek,
Bush Tetras,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monks,
Bill Wells,
Cluster,
Sound Behaviour,
Al Stewart,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Monochrome Set,
Harmonia,
Aswad,
Liliput,
Wings,
Minny Pops,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.