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 Switzerland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar 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 Procol Harum to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Donald Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
Bluetip,
Intrusion,
Marine Girls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monks,
Black Moon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Smoke,
Hot Snakes,
Spoonie Gee,
Arab on Radar,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alison Limerick,
The Fall,
Eurythmics,
Connie Case,
Tears for Fears,
Gang Gang Dance,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lindisfarne,
The Monochrome Set,
David Axelrod,
K-Klass,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Sheep,
The Cramps,
Clear Light,
DJ Style,
Harpers Bizarre,
Althea and Donna,
Matthew Bourne,
Vainqueur,
Letta Mbulu,
LL Cool J,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Von Mondo,
Ronnie Foster,
The Tremeloes,
Desert Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Audionom,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nico,
Ronan,
The Residents,
Eric Copeland,
The Red Krayola,
Grauzone,
Crash Course in Science,
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
The Misunderstood,
Echospace,
Flipper,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.