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 Angola and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron 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 Soul Sonic Force to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal,
X-Ray Spex,
Model 500,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oblivians,
Colin Newman,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Reed,
The Offenders,
The Golliwogs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boogie Down Productions,
Funkadelic,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minor Threat,
Flash Fearless,
Gabor Szabo,
Drexciya,
Cameo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
Outsiders,
The Misunderstood,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Sherman,
10cc,
Mark Hollis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Half Japanese,
Nick Fraelich,
Rites of Spring,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Letta Mbulu,
Thee Headcoats,
Nils Olav,
Deepchord,
June Days,
Tres Demented,
Mantronix,
Ultra Naté,
The Fall,
Mr. Review,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Theoretical Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quadrant,
Newcleus,
Fluxion,
The Human League,
Rapeman,
EPMD,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.