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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the grunge 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Trumans Water,
Marmalade,
Dual Sessions,
10cc,
Neil Young,
Tomorrow,
Fear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Second Layer,
Kas Product,
Jeff Lynne,
Crime,
Outsiders,
The Neon Judgement,
Shuggie Otis,
The Names,
Cluster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
Nico,
The Dirtbombs,
Derrick Morgan,
Lebanon Hanover,
B.T. Express,
The Fortunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Brothers Johnson,
the Normal,
Schoolly D,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Pus,
Thee Headcoats,
Eve St. Jones,
Swans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Starr,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brand Nubian,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Heaven 17,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hasil Adkins,
Technova,
Gong,
Ponytail,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Slick Rick,
Ronan,
Saccharine Trust,
Wally Richardson,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Görl,
The Fuzztones,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.