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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rhythm & Sound to the punk 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Piero Umiliani,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cluster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bronski Beat,
Index,
Siglo XX,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacob Miller,
Harry Pussy,
Fad Gadget,
David McCallum,
Steve Hackett,
Soul II Soul,
Ornette Coleman,
Lindisfarne,
Ohio Players,
Sixth Finger,
Mantronix,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
Surgeon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Associates,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rekid,
Royal Trux,
Visage,
The Angels of Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Vainqueur,
Tres Demented,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lyres,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blancmange,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dennis Brown,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warren Ellis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Matthew Bourne,
Roxy Music,
Organ,
The Gladiators,
Swell Maps,
48th St. Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Mission of Burma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.