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 Zambia and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blancmange to the rap 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Spandau Ballet,
Susan Cadogan,
Loose Ends,
Unwound,
the Normal,
the Germs,
Cal Tjader,
Subhumans,
Iggy Pop,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sight & Sound,
Franke,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June Days,
Robert Wyatt,
Wings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Darondo,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed,
Malaria!,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
Sun City Girls,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
Newcleus,
Interpol,
OOIOO,
X-101,
Soft Machine,
Ohio Players,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Leaves,
Kerrie Biddell,
World's Most,
Fear,
LL Cool J,
The Grass Roots,
The Happenings,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lyres,
Danielle Patucci,
One Last Wish,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
The Golliwogs,
Zapp,
Country Teasers,
Barrington Levy,
Tubeway Army,
Lalo Schifrin,
Guru Guru,
Lakeside,
Deakin,
Jacques Brel,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.