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 Yemen and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb 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 Eli Mardock to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dorothy Ashby,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Finger,
Marine Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Associates,
JFA,
Depeche Mode,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pole,
Country Teasers,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Adolescents,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Altered Images,
Brass Construction,
Babytalk,
Morten Harket,
R.M.O.,
The Evens,
a-ha,
Kurtis Blow,
Brick,
The Trojans,
Youth Brigade,
Dark Day,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Desert Stars,
Supertramp,
Thee Headcoats,
Model 500,
Lower 48,
Bang On A Can,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
U.S. Maple,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Davy DMX,
Barry Ungar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gabor Szabo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nirvana,
Bluetip,
Monolake,
Nik Kershaw,
John Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.