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 Czech Republic and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 8 Eyed Spy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
The Wake,
Minor Threat,
The Selecter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Audionom,
The Golliwogs,
The Names,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Chris & Cosey,
Sonny Sharrock,
Reuben Wilson,
The Saints,
Crash Course in Science,
Circle Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alison Limerick,
Young Marble Giants,
Quadrant,
The Cowsills,
Hot Snakes,
the Germs,
In Retrospect,
The Five Americans,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Technova,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fatback Band,
R.M.O.,
F. McDonald,
Spoonie Gee,
Susan Cadogan,
Schoolly D,
Ituana,
Althea and Donna,
Ohio Players,
Crooked Eye,
Pere Ubu,
The Victims,
cv313,
Sun City Girls,
H. Thieme,
Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Quantec,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Monolake,
The Stooges,
Darondo,
Joey Negro,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Count Five,
Franke,
Robert Wyatt,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.