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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the techno 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
One Last Wish,
X-Ray Spex,
Masters at Work,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeru the Damaja,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Darondo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Görl,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harmonia,
Von Mondo,
Faust,
The Fuzztones,
Basic Channel,
Mandrill,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
Morten Harket,
Silicon Teens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
Little Man,
Susan Cadogan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alton Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Deadbeat,
Boz Scaggs,
Ituana,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joensuu 1685,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Youth Brigade,
10cc,
The Count Five,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
John Lydon,
Livin' Joy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Letta Mbulu,
Chrome,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quantec,
OOIOO,
Chris & Cosey,
The Evens,
Roxette,
Mission of Burma,
Eric Dolphy,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
The Cure,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.