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 Gabon and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Khruangbin to the rap 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blossom Toes,
Organ,
Mark Hollis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mojo Men,
Sight & Sound,
Kayak,
Technova,
10cc,
Mr. Review,
Scientists,
K-Klass,
La Düsseldorf,
Scrapy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dead Boys,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Human League,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Litter,
Barbara Tucker,
The Young Rascals,
Amon Düül II,
The Remains,
One Last Wish,
Fat Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Gichy Dan,
the Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Michelle Simonal,
Stereo Dub,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rites of Spring,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Human League,
Lalann,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
Boredoms,
Soul II Soul,
The Standells,
Moss Icon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
Radiohead,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sugar Minott,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Swell Maps,
Amon Düül,
Wings,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Surgeon,
X-102,
Marc Almond,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.