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 Tonga and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum 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 Roy Ayers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
cv313,
The Moleskins,
Electric Prunes,
World's Most,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fortunes,
Rotary Connection,
Josef K,
Neil Young,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Radiohead,
Pierre Henry,
New Age Steppers,
Anakelly,
Roxy Music,
Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Desert Stars,
Qualms,
Gang Green,
Skaos,
Soul II Soul,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Buckinghams,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
Skriet,
Bill Wells,
Roger Hodgson,
Shoche,
Max Romeo,
F. McDonald,
Ronnie Foster,
The Slackers,
Donny Hathaway,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Holt,
Nirvana,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kaleidoscope,
Popol Vuh,
Glenn Branca,
Ludus,
Supertramp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cheater Slicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lightning Bolt,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Sister Nancy,
Cal Tjader,
The Golliwogs,
The J.B.'s,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
Aloha Tigers,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.