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 Nauru and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Leaves 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suicide,
T. Rex,
Sex Pistols,
Jacob Miller,
Mandrill,
Ludus,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slits,
The Martian,
Ponytail,
Rotary Connection,
8 Eyed Spy,
Patti Smith,
Khruangbin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Television Personalities,
Barrington Levy,
Lightning Bolt,
Don Cherry,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sam Rivers,
Soft Machine,
AZ,
Brick,
Steve Hackett,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Wyatt,
R.M.O.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radio Birdman,
Gabor Szabo,
The Five Americans,
the Bar-Kays,
Freddie Wadling,
Shuggie Otis,
The Motions,
Eric Dolphy,
Yazoo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bush Tetras,
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
Altered Images,
Max Romeo,
Crooked Eye,
Television,
Grauzone,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rufus Thomas,
Camouflage,
Essential Logic,
Oblivians,
Wings,
Roy Ayers,
Parry Music,
F. McDonald,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Clear Light,
Bluetip,
Minny Pops,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.