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 Algeria and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
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 harpsichord 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 Al Stewart to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Busters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronan,
Oneida,
The Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monochrome Set,
Suicide,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
The Grass Roots,
Donny Hathaway,
Make Up,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cure,
Animal Collective,
Pylon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
La Düsseldorf,
Soul II Soul,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
World's Most,
The Residents,
Symarip,
Television Personalities,
The Martian,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
The Names,
One Last Wish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tubeway Army,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
Albert Ayler,
Cameo,
The Mummies,
The Misunderstood,
The Blackbyrds,
Swans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Darondo,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
UT,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young,
Parry Music,
Matthew Halsall,
Joe Finger,
Joy Division,
Second Layer,
The Pretty Things,
Qualms,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Carl Craig,
Unrelated Segments,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.