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 Maldives and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang On A Can to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Chris Corsano,
a-ha,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Skatalites,
Roxy Music,
Public Enemy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joy Division,
The Names,
Mars,
Procol Harum,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Loose Ends,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ken Boothe,
X-102,
The Motions,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis,
Bill Wells,
Flipper,
Zapp,
Sam Rivers,
The Associates,
Donny Hathaway,
The Birthday Party,
Black Bananas,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
H. Thieme,
The Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Archie Shepp,
Yazoo,
Wings,
Mad Mike,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mummies,
Barbara Tucker,
Country Teasers,
Soulsonic Force,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grey Daturas,
Dave Gahan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Make Up,
Rosa Yemen,
Underground Resistance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter,
Scan 7,
Supertramp,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.