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 Morocco and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Mandrill to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Second Layer,
The Alarm Clocks,
Goldenarms,
Mr. Review,
Janne Schatter,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Neon Judgement,
Saccharine Trust,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lyres,
The Fall,
Severed Heads,
Brick,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Lou Christie,
Newcleus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Zapp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pagans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moebius,
The Litter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-Ray Spex,
MDC,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Sherman,
Gabor Szabo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pylon,
The Move,
DNA,
Man Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
The Five Americans,
AZ,
Soulsonic Force,
Altered Images,
Khruangbin,
Reagan Youth,
The Angels of Light,
Intrusion,
The Knickerbockers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacques Brel,
Das Ding,
Blossom Toes,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Association,
Lower 48,
Flipper,
Nation of Ulysses,
LL Cool J,
Joy Division,
Desert Stars,
Marc Almond,
Wire,
Alice Coltrane,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.