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 Tonga and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Swell Maps to the jazz 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Human League,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television,
Niagra,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Normal,
the Swans,
Pussy Galore,
Black Flag,
Metal Thangz,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Birthday Party,
Saccharine Trust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Associates,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Index,
Albert Ayler,
kango's stein massive,
Fear,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Make Up,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Intrusion,
Aswad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sound,
Pagans,
B.T. Express,
Funkadelic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
Motorama,
T.S.O.L.,
Pantytec,
Bush Tetras,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
Q65,
Tropical Tobacco,
Section 25,
Boz Scaggs,
Monolake,
John Coltrane,
Negative Approach,
John Lydon,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Lower 48,
Judy Mowatt,
T. Rex,
Quando Quango,
Henry Cow,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.