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 Bhutan and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Sonics to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Eli Mardock,
The Toasters,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott Heron,
X-102,
Cluster,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Porter Ricks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Metal Thangz,
Neu!,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gap Band,
Janne Schatter,
Rekid,
Al Stewart,
Rufus Thomas,
The Last Poets,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Peter and Kerry,
One Last Wish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tres Demented,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dennis Brown,
Nico,
The Moleskins,
Yellowson,
Fugazi,
Monolake,
The Move,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
D'Angelo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Sonny Sharrock,
Circle Jerks,
Skriet,
Joy Division,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Wyatt,
The Techniques,
Easy Going,
Aswad,
Man Parrish,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.