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 Sudan and from Columbus.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Popol Vuh to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
Index,
Peter & Gordon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Charles Mingus,
the Association,
Ossler,
Suicide,
The Gories,
Marmalade,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Youth Brigade,
The Victims,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pantaleimon,
B.T. Express,
Lou Christie,
Pierre Henry,
Crime,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Bourne,
Glenn Branca,
June of 44,
David Bowie,
Section 25,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
Gregory Isaacs,
Henry Cow,
Flamin' Groovies,
kango's stein massive,
Can,
The Music Machine,
The Pop Group,
Bizarre Inc.,
Michelle Simonal,
Wire,
The Move,
Fugazi,
Gang Gang Dance,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
Sandy B,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Livin' Joy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Smoke,
Joe Finger,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eddi Front,
Y Pants,
Tomorrow,
The Last Poets,
Flash Fearless,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.