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 Grenada and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Nick Fraelich to the rock 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Funkadelic,
Iggy Pop,
Barrington Levy,
Albert Ayler,
H. Thieme,
Tom Boy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Wyatt,
Hoover,
Kurtis Blow,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
Jandek,
Animal Collective,
Parry Music,
Das Ding,
UT,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
KRS-One,
Excepter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Bowie,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Christie,
Sandy B,
Mars,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Pantytec,
Carl Craig,
Sun City Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bang On A Can,
Reagan Youth,
Arcadia,
The Durutti Column,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Graham Central Station,
The Toasters,
Lower 48,
Gichy Dan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Qualms,
Pagans,
Danielle Patucci,
The Martian,
The Pretty Things,
The Mummies,
K-Klass,
Warsaw,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.