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 Norway and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crash Course in Science to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Liliput,
Bobby Sherman,
Juan Atkins,
Jawbox,
Funkadelic,
Arthur Verocai,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Hood,
Accadde A,
David Bowie,
The Gories,
The Litter,
Carl Craig,
Crispy Ambulance,
a-ha,
Hoover,
The Grass Roots,
Rites of Spring,
Anakelly,
Pussy Galore,
The Shadows of Knight,
Simply Red,
Sex Pistols,
Bang On A Can,
D'Angelo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blossom Toes,
Tres Demented,
The Evens,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Axelrod,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smoke,
Cecil Taylor,
Joensuu 1685,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Doors,
Dave Gahan,
Trumans Water,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mission of Burma,
Scrapy,
Faraquet,
Stereo Dub,
Pere Ubu,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
The Neon Judgement,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rufus Thomas,
Kevin Saunderson,
The United States of America,
Bluetip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tom Boy,
Japan,
B.T. Express,
Ludus,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.