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 El Salvador and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lalann to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Move,
Moss Icon,
LL Cool J,
Mr. Review,
The Alarm Clocks,
Henry Cow,
Davy DMX,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxy Music,
Lower 48,
Prince Buster,
June of 44,
Dark Day,
kango's stein massive,
Scion,
Lalann,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Cell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Boz Scaggs,
Dead Boys,
The Cure,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kaleidoscope,
Max Romeo,
ABC,
Godley & Creme,
Chris & Cosey,
The Grass Roots,
Reagan Youth,
Royal Trux,
Minny Pops,
Cal Tjader,
Television,
Skarface,
Terrestrial Tones,
a-ha,
Monks,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Womack,
Ultravox,
Brass Construction,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fugs,
Arab on Radar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun City Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
PIL,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
In Retrospect,
Ossler,
The Techniques,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.