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 Portugal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barclay James Harvest to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Minor Threat,
The Star Department,
Bush Tetras,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
The Sonics,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Icehouse,
Magma,
Skriet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moleskins,
Deadbeat,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex,
Shuggie Otis,
Slick Rick,
The Young Rascals,
Country Joe & The Fish,
ABC,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Black Dice,
Connie Case,
The Busters,
Barry Ungar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pulsallama,
JFA,
The Selecter,
Das Ding,
Brick,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sam Rivers,
Camouflage,
Kerri Chandler,
Joy Division,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Motorama,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Buckinghams,
Clear Light,
the Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Amon Düül,
Juan Atkins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
LL Cool J,
James White and The Blacks,
Aloha Tigers,
Sällskapet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Desert Stars,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ossler,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.