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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Von Mondo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Flipper,
The Cure,
Byron Stingily,
Crime,
Aloha Tigers,
Roxy Music,
Maleditus Sound,
The Names,
Frankie Knuckles,
PIL,
Ten City,
Kerri Chandler,
Thompson Twins,
The Dirtbombs,
Basic Channel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Velvet Underground,
FM Einheit,
the Slits,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scott Walker,
Judy Mowatt,
Ornette Coleman,
Icehouse,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric Dolphy,
MDC,
Gang Starr,
The Vogues,
Rapeman,
Fad Gadget,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Procol Harum,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oneida,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor,
Banda Bassotti,
Sight & Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Qualms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bang On A Can,
Shoche,
Donny Hathaway,
Bob Dylan,
Agent Orange,
John Coltrane,
Hardrive,
Echospace,
This Heat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mars,
Ludus,
The Seeds,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.