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 Honduras and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin 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 World's Most to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Crime,
The Blackbyrds,
Icehouse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wally Richardson,
The Selecter,
Steve Hackett,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Accadde A,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moody Blues,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
Ohio Players,
Roxy Music,
KRS-One,
Eddi Front,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soft Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Mark Hollis,
Toni Rubio,
The Busters,
Public Enemy,
Black Sheep,
Sonic Youth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doors,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Easy Going,
Camberwell Now,
Skriet,
Bill Near,
Piero Umiliani,
Clear Light,
Erasure,
cv313,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
Gabor Szabo,
Ponytail,
Newcleus,
Section 25,
Jacob Miller,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-Ray Spex,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Terry,
the Soft Cell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Television Personalities,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slick Rick,
JFA,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.