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 Palau 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 New Age Steppers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Cheater Slicks,
Blake Baxter,
Juan Atkins,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Smooth,
The Techniques,
Magma,
Arcadia,
Ken Boothe,
Hasil Adkins,
Outsiders,
the Germs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang of Four,
Camberwell Now,
The Pop Group,
Sex Pistols,
Bluetip,
Barrington Levy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Davy DMX,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DNA,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
EPMD,
Laurel Aitken,
Deepchord,
Lindisfarne,
Eurythmics,
U.S. Maple,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Doors,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
Spandau Ballet,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Smog,
World's Most,
Throbbing Gristle,
MDC,
Chris Corsano,
Whodini,
Dual Sessions,
Bill Near,
Blancmange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Television Personalities,
The Litter,
Desert Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare,
Sugar Minott,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.