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 Qatar and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Swans to the disco 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Blake Baxter,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
The Move,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mission of Burma,
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grauzone,
The Stooges,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultra Naté,
Adolescents,
Roger Hodgson,
Nils Olav,
Skriet,
The Electric Prunes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-101,
Marvin Gaye,
Jimmy McGriff,
Don Cherry,
Harry Pussy,
Brass Construction,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mojo Men,
Cymande,
48th St. Collective,
Harmonia,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Swans,
Hasil Adkins,
The Offenders,
The Mummies,
Marc Almond,
Lalann,
Black Bananas,
Marmalade,
the Soft Cell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Index,
Yellowson,
Fugazi,
Iggy Pop,
La Düsseldorf,
David Axelrod,
Barbara Tucker,
Mr. Review,
Black Pus,
Joey Negro,
Radio Birdman,
Josef K,
Wolf Eyes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.