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 Russia and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kenny Larkin to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a synthesizer 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Joensuu 1685,
Nation of Ulysses,
Procol Harum,
Blossom Toes,
Whodini,
The Five Americans,
The Mojo Men,
New Order,
Vainqueur,
The Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Buckinghams,
Boz Scaggs,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Index,
Soft Machine,
The Martian,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pussy Galore,
The Monochrome Set,
Graham Central Station,
The Gun Club,
The Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
Funkadelic,
Peter and Kerry,
The Sound,
Wire,
Skriet,
Newcleus,
Swans,
Deepchord,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
World's Most,
Panda Bear,
B.T. Express,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Idris Muhammad,
Jimmy McGriff,
Make Up,
Siglo XX,
Silicon Teens,
Loose Ends,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
The Associates,
Joe Smooth,
Nik Kershaw,
Mark Hollis,
Albert Ayler,
The Skatalites,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mission of Burma,
Reagan Youth,
The Victims,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.