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 Malta and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron 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 Warren Ellis to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Adolescents,
Davy DMX,
Altered Images,
Lebanon Hanover,
KRS-One,
Soul Sonic Force,
Warsaw,
The United States of America,
Roxy Music,
Blossom Toes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nico,
Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
The Leaves,
The Beau Brummels,
Anthony Braxton,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Buckinghams,
Donald Byrd,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Sneak,
Grey Daturas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Steve Hackett,
The Cowsills,
The Residents,
Alton Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Royal Trux,
Surgeon,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Womack,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Masters at Work,
Young Marble Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Mantronix,
Robert Hood,
The Doors,
The Birthday Party,
Joe Smooth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
David Axelrod,
Gabor Szabo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Offenders,
This Heat,
the Germs,
The Mojo Men,
Kas Product,
Average White Band,
The Evens,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.