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 Ivory Coast and from Bremen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lucky Dragons to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Erykah Badu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quantec,
Alphaville,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Womack,
The Velvet Underground,
H. Thieme,
DNA,
Quadrant,
Faraquet,
Leonard Cohen,
Mars,
The United States of America,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Görl,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nas,
Boz Scaggs,
Howard Jones,
Tubeway Army,
Monolake,
Fugazi,
Ornette Coleman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Organ,
Pierre Henry,
David Bowie,
48th St. Collective,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pylon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Michelle Simonal,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Half Japanese,
Mandrill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soul II Soul,
The Buckinghams,
In Retrospect,
Sunsets and Hearts,
John Lydon,
Fatback Band,
The Tremeloes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sandy B,
Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boredoms,
Tim Buckley,
Fear,
Visage,
Sixth Finger,
This Heat,
Joey Negro,
The Human League,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.