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 Comoros and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Radiohead,
The Motions,
The Stooges,
Boredoms,
a-ha,
OOIOO,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dawn Penn,
The Black Dice,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Funky Four + One,
Radiopuhelimet,
Unrelated Segments,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harry Pussy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nico,
Hot Snakes,
Junior Murvin,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Human League,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Prince Buster,
Suburban Knight,
Khruangbin,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
Niagra,
Soft Cell,
The Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swans,
The United States of America,
the Soft Cell,
Vainqueur,
Jeff Lynne,
R.M.O.,
Bob Dylan,
Black Pus,
Stereo Dub,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tom Boy,
Rod Modell,
Cal Tjader,
Model 500,
the Bar-Kays,
This Heat,
Crooked Eye,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sisters of Mercy,
B.T. Express,
Howard Jones,
The Last Poets,
La Düsseldorf,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.