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 Mali and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
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 Deakin to the grime 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players 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?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra,
Janne Schatter,
The Pretty Things,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David Axelrod,
Iggy Pop,
Niagra,
New Age Steppers,
B.T. Express,
48th St. Collective,
ABBA,
Steve Hackett,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ludus,
The Techniques,
Zero Boys,
Negative Approach,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mandrill,
The Happenings,
Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Brass Construction,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
Basic Channel,
The New Christs,
LL Cool J,
The Modern Lovers,
Massinfluence,
Reuben Wilson,
R.M.O.,
Simply Red,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Rundgren,
The Black Dice,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeru the Damaja,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
The Angels of Light,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
Reagan Youth,
Faust,
Black Flag,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
Pierre Henry,
Dark Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
The Fall,
Funkadelic,
The Fuzztones,
Radiohead,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.