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 Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Smoke to the punk 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Standells,
Icehouse,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Lydon,
Derrick May,
Quantec,
Anthony Braxton,
Graham Central Station,
Joensuu 1685,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Christie,
The Fortunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Liliput,
Lindisfarne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dave Gahan,
Faust,
Fatback Band,
H. Thieme,
The Mummies,
Kayak,
Sparks,
a-ha,
Fluxion,
Wolf Eyes,
Tubeway Army,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Real Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
New York Dolls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Swell Maps,
Loose Ends,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Panda Bear,
Davy DMX,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Warren Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
Motorama,
Mad Mike,
The Associates,
Marmalade,
The Mojo Men,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.