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 Brunei and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ronan to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Andrew Hill,
The Invisible,
Monks,
Robert Hood,
Erykah Badu,
Organ,
David Axelrod,
Ohio Players,
Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Y Pants,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Steve Hackett,
Rhythm & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
The Selecter,
Kaleidoscope,
Barrington Levy,
Motorama,
PIL,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Massinfluence,
Joey Negro,
Buzzcocks,
Sarah Menescal,
Tom Boy,
The Fugs,
Fela Kuti,
This Heat,
The Last Poets,
Wings,
X-Ray Spex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
Derrick Morgan,
New Order,
Crash Course in Science,
Nas,
Sixth Finger,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
FM Einheit,
Theoretical Girls,
Todd Terry,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Niagra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stiv Bators,
The Martian,
Robert Wyatt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kas Product,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.