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 Slovakia and from Glasgow.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Joyce Sims to the grunge 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bronski Beat,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Spandau Ballet,
Scion,
Schoolly D,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funkadelic,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Womack,
Skarface,
Smog,
The Fuzztones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
China Crisis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slave,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wire,
Roger Hodgson,
Ludus,
Amon Düül,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
Yusef Lateef,
Hashim,
Sound Behaviour,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Letta Mbulu,
Sun City Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore,
a-ha,
Mandrill,
Boz Scaggs,
the Germs,
The Young Rascals,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alice Coltrane,
Outsiders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Banda Bassotti,
Minnie Riperton,
Skaos,
Patti Smith,
Eden Ahbez,
Accadde A,
The Associates,
Radio Birdman,
The Black Dice,
Das Ding,
Max Romeo,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.