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 Micronesia 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oneida to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Altered Images,
Tubeway Army,
Quando Quango,
Marmalade,
Moby Grape,
Rod Modell,
Can,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Erykah Badu,
Fear,
Pantytec,
F. McDonald,
Lindisfarne,
Shuggie Otis,
Sam Rivers,
Inner City,
Rakim,
Joe Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
Swell Maps,
Main Source,
Anthony Braxton,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Wells,
Fad Gadget,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Technova,
Darondo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Invisible,
The Music Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Audionom,
The Stooges,
Newcleus,
Tom Boy,
The Vogues,
Dark Day,
Deakin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Massinfluence,
Fatback Band,
Camouflage,
The Monochrome Set,
The Offenders,
Brick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
L. Decosne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fugazi,
The Durutti Column,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.