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 Malaysia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Surgeon to the rock 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Terry Callier,
Franke,
the Normal,
Soft Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
David Bowie,
The Birthday Party,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monochrome Set,
Symarip,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harmonia,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul II Soul,
Scientists,
Sparks,
The Fortunes,
Fela Kuti,
Procol Harum,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
Warren Ellis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Drexciya,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deepchord,
Mr. Review,
Arcadia,
June of 44,
Al Stewart,
Alton Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mantronix,
Smog,
Fad Gadget,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arthur Verocai,
OOIOO,
Isaac Hayes,
Rakim,
F. McDonald,
Scott Walker,
Bill Wells,
Radiohead,
Ituana,
Groovy Waters,
Ludus,
The Blackbyrds,
Barbara Tucker,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sound Behaviour,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rosa Yemen,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
Mandrill,
The Martian,
Godley & Creme,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.