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 Lebanon and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Human League,
The Music Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Main Source,
The Smiths,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television,
The Misunderstood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Surgeon,
Robert Wyatt,
Visage,
Roy Ayers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
Severed Heads,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Animal Collective,
Fatback Band,
Radio Birdman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
The Barracudas,
Alton Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Warren Ellis,
Crime,
Dennis Brown,
The Names,
The Fugs,
Chris & Cosey,
Urselle,
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
Kas Product,
The Mummies,
Eve St. Jones,
Sight & Sound,
Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
Todd Rundgren,
Suicide,
Heaven 17,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Piero Umiliani,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soft Machine,
The Black Dice,
ABBA,
Al Stewart,
Slave,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Half Japanese,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bill Near,
Fat Boys,
Mars,
Buzzcocks,
Carl Craig,
The Flesh Eaters,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.