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 Eritrea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 OOIOO to the dance 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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Cecil Taylor,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare,
Skriet,
Peter and Kerry,
New Order,
Sällskapet,
Lou Christie,
Pet Shop Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
Mr. Review,
Monolake,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crime,
World's Most,
Jacob Miller,
Young Marble Giants,
Suburban Knight,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Residents,
Lee Hazlewood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Suicide,
Drive Like Jehu,
F. McDonald,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Velvet Underground,
ABBA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amazonics,
Robert Wyatt,
The Golliwogs,
Ronnie Foster,
Mad Mike,
Hasil Adkins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Desert Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Average White Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wasted Youth,
B.T. Express,
Danielle Patucci,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The J.B.'s,
The Cramps,
Bauhaus,
The Pretty Things,
Ohio Players,
Circle Jerks,
Rakim,
Hardrive,
the Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.