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 Tanzania and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stereo Dub to the electroclash 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Altered Images,
Surgeon,
Stiv Bators,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Junior Murvin,
Roxette,
Technova,
Kurtis Blow,
Slave,
Popol Vuh,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
A Certain Ratio,
Wire,
a-ha,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lalann,
Pantaleimon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
Loose Ends,
Marc Almond,
Reagan Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Gabor Szabo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scientists,
Barbara Tucker,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brand Nubian,
Susan Cadogan,
Subhumans,
Mr. Review,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis,
Nils Olav,
Carl Craig,
Fat Boys,
Maurizio,
Juan Atkins,
The Fuzztones,
The Grass Roots,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alison Limerick,
Deadbeat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blancmange,
Jacques Brel,
Glenn Branca,
Rod Modell,
Royal Trux,
Sun City Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drexciya,
Pussy Galore,
Mantronix,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.