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 East Timor and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Andrew Hill to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Harpers Bizarre,
Infiniti,
Deadbeat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ronnie Foster,
The Motions,
Circle Jerks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Wake,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mr. Review,
D'Angelo,
Jandek,
Pussy Galore,
Masters at Work,
Bang On A Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young,
Surgeon,
Sound Behaviour,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hasil Adkins,
X-Ray Spex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skaos,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yellowson,
EPMD,
Technova,
Sällskapet,
Oneida,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Von Mondo,
The Happenings,
Henry Cow,
MDC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter & Gordon,
June Days,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Sneak,
Popol Vuh,
The Sound,
Organ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Godley & Creme,
Cameo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Divine Comedy,
The Index,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.