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 Ghana and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Steve Hackett to the punk 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
James White and The Blacks,
Desert Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Japan,
Sandy B,
Amon Düül II,
Ten City,
The Tremeloes,
The Real Kids,
Monolake,
Kevin Saunderson,
Livin' Joy,
Second Layer,
Tropical Tobacco,
Johnny Clarke,
T. Rex,
Donald Byrd,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
FM Einheit,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Sonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Count Five,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Christie,
The New Christs,
The Mummies,
Sällskapet,
The Sonics,
The Evens,
Crooked Eye,
Sarah Menescal,
Cluster,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
Buzzcocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Shoche,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Holt,
Soft Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Altered Images,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Silicon Teens,
Sound Behaviour,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Radiohead,
Heaven 17,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.