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 Laos and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Derrick Morgan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
This Heat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Sherman,
Fatback Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fugazi,
Little Man,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Halsall,
Sixth Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
PIL,
Spoonie Gee,
Sex Pistols,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Smog,
Donny Hathaway,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy Collins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DJ Style,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
Derrick Morgan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barry Ungar,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Martian,
K-Klass,
Pet Shop Boys,
Schoolly D,
Steve Hackett,
Arcadia,
Mark Hollis,
John Holt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quando Quango,
The Litter,
Pulsallama,
Gichy Dan,
48th St. Collective,
the Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
Lungfish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Music Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Nico,
Lakeside,
Skaos,
Urselle,
Kurtis Blow,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.