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 Comoros and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Letta Mbulu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Black Pus,
Icehouse,
Susan Cadogan,
David McCallum,
Ultravox,
Saccharine Trust,
Freddie Wadling,
Visage,
Sällskapet,
Pulsallama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dual Sessions,
L. Decosne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dark Day,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Aswad,
The Gap Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moebius,
Intrusion,
The Raincoats,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Index,
Kevin Saunderson,
Procol Harum,
The Skatalites,
Robert Hood,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Halsall,
Gichy Dan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Black Sheep,
Joey Negro,
The Gories,
Nirvana,
The Angels of Light,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Wells,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Clarke,
Ohio Players,
Angry Samoans,
Index,
Alton Ellis,
Los Fastidios,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jawbox,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.