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 Uzbekistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bluetip to the funk 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
John Coltrane,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Model 500,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MDC,
Los Fastidios,
B.T. Express,
Terrestrial Tones,
Can,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Faust,
Tubeway Army,
Mars,
Malaria!,
Letta Mbulu,
The Modern Lovers,
Arab on Radar,
The Star Department,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Steve Hackett,
Sound Behaviour,
Scion,
The Skatalites,
Sparks,
Harmonia,
Wings,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barrington Levy,
The Durutti Column,
Dark Day,
Glenn Branca,
Wire,
Lindisfarne,
The Leaves,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Wells,
Isaac Hayes,
The Smiths,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oblivians,
Radiohead,
Second Layer,
Sun City Girls,
Jawbox,
Whodini,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aswad,
Cymande,
Basic Channel,
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
Youth Brigade,
Leonard Cohen,
Masters at Work,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.