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 Luxembourg and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 Yusef Lateef to the jazz 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fuzztones,
Janne Schatter,
X-102,
Max Romeo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
The Associates,
The Walker Brothers,
Joyce Sims,
John Coltrane,
Monks,
Roxette,
Matthew Halsall,
Lyres,
The Remains,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
Marmalade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siglo XX,
Boredoms,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Selecter,
Sister Nancy,
Hot Snakes,
R.M.O.,
Half Japanese,
Sparks,
Smog,
Skarface,
a-ha,
Buzzcocks,
The Sonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultra Naté,
Magma,
The Star Department,
Scrapy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Patti Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Agent Orange,
The J.B.'s,
LL Cool J,
Sex Pistols,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Blues Magoos,
FM Einheit,
The Cramps,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Sheep,
The Detroit Cobras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The New Christs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.