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 Serbia 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Sandy B 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Drexciya,
The Fugs,
Ten City,
The Litter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rites of Spring,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
Black Moon,
The J.B.'s,
K-Klass,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Leaves,
Fela Kuti,
Bauhaus,
Bush Tetras,
Zero Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Q65,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül II,
Gerry Rafferty,
EPMD,
Mission of Burma,
Duran Duran,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiohead,
The Saints,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Normal,
Half Japanese,
Hot Snakes,
The Music Machine,
Camberwell Now,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Davy DMX,
Sun City Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Flipper,
Excepter,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Spoonie Gee,
Fad Gadget,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lyres,
Gang of Four,
Technova,
Television,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.