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 Finland and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radio Birdman,
Suburban Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultravox,
Von Mondo,
48th St. Collective,
Crash Course in Science,
Panda Bear,
Wasted Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Trumans Water,
Soft Machine,
Goldenarms,
Gang Green,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deakin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Clear Light,
The Moody Blues,
Joe Smooth,
Aaron Thompson,
Scientists,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cameo,
X-102,
Fluxion,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick Morgan,
The Pretty Things,
Soulsonic Force,
Agitation Free,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ronnie Foster,
The Leaves,
Stetsasonic,
Erasure,
The Birthday Party,
The Smoke,
Fatback Band,
Joyce Sims,
Malaria!,
The Fall,
Alison Limerick,
Zero Boys,
Quadrant,
This Heat,
The Mojo Men,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Subhumans,
The Buckinghams,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gun Club,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skaos,
Desert Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.