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 Azerbaijan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Don Cherry to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mandrill,
Second Layer,
Schoolly D,
The Busters,
Harmonia,
Quadrant,
KRS-One,
Eddi Front,
Reagan Youth,
DNA,
Delta 5,
Grauzone,
Pantytec,
Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slick Rick,
Sex Pistols,
Terry Callier,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
B.T. Express,
Thompson Twins,
The Durutti Column,
Josef K,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Velvet Underground,
Ten City,
Rakim,
Bootsy Collins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Masters at Work,
Cameo,
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
Los Fastidios,
Mantronix,
Crooked Eye,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arcadia,
Rekid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Fania All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Infiniti,
Icehouse,
Yazoo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minnie Riperton,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.