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 Lebanon and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 The American Breed to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Interpol,
Masters at Work,
Pantaleimon,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Görl,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eurythmics,
Scratch Acid,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Finger,
CMW,
Can,
Connie Case,
The Gun Club,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oneida,
Hot Snakes,
Tom Boy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dennis Brown,
The Star Department,
Colin Newman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Charles Mingus,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dawn Penn,
Henry Cow,
Soft Machine,
Faraquet,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Starr,
Sandy B,
Swell Maps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crooked Eye,
Sound Behaviour,
the Germs,
Nick Fraelich,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fortunes,
Mandrill,
Alphaville,
The Smoke,
Derrick May,
Minutemen,
John Holt,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
Mad Mike,
Procol Harum,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jandek,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fugazi,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.