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 Kosovo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb 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 X-Ray Spex to the funk 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Faraquet,
ABC,
Yaz,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Moon,
Shoche,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Unwound,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fugs,
Arthur Verocai,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
John Holt,
Nik Kershaw,
Rotary Connection,
The Blues Magoos,
Eddi Front,
The Velvet Underground,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Section 25,
The Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Talk Talk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacob Miller,
Harpers Bizarre,
Loose Ends,
The Offenders,
Bobby Womack,
Henry Cow,
Lower 48,
Marvin Gaye,
Spandau Ballet,
John Foxx,
Ponytail,
The Litter,
Warren Ellis,
Q65,
Marshall Jefferson,
Warsaw,
Stiv Bators,
Nirvana,
Brass Construction,
New Order,
Derrick May,
Ornette Coleman,
B.T. Express,
Crash Course in Science,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Görl,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
China Crisis,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.