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 Namibia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Yusef Lateef to the punk 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Star Department,
The Gap Band,
Pierre Henry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Bar-Kays,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tim Buckley,
Dawn Penn,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Wyatt,
Josef K,
Blossom Toes,
Leonard Cohen,
The Buckinghams,
Ultravox,
Ponytail,
Easy Going,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Style,
The Busters,
David Axelrod,
CMW,
Sixth Finger,
Bang On A Can,
Technova,
Goldenarms,
the Human League,
Minny Pops,
Chris & Cosey,
Clear Light,
Don Cherry,
Unrelated Segments,
Outsiders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harry Pussy,
The Move,
Scan 7,
The Walker Brothers,
Desert Stars,
The Slackers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Basic Channel,
Pulsallama,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mo-Dettes,
New Order,
Kerri Chandler,
Inner City,
Byron Stingily,
The Remains,
Trumans Water,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dark Day,
The Doors,
Harmonia,
Fugazi,
Royal Trux,
Aloha Tigers,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.