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 Comoros and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
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 organ 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 David McCallum to the grime 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
Quantec,
CMW,
Thompson Twins,
Stetsasonic,
Bob Dylan,
Bauhaus,
Chrome,
The Walker Brothers,
Visage,
Graham Central Station,
Al Stewart,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gories,
Hoover,
Eric Dolphy,
Japan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dennis Brown,
Stereo Dub,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
The Mojo Men,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
Easy Going,
China Crisis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Starr,
Quando Quango,
Symarip,
Joensuu 1685,
Wasted Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vainqueur,
Essential Logic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Subhumans,
Angry Samoans,
Parry Music,
Das Ding,
ABBA,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
X-101,
Public Enemy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
Cameo,
Model 500,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Grass Roots,
The J.B.'s,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare,
The Motions,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.