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 Sweden and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Metal Thangz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Knickerbockers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rites of Spring,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Clear Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Howard Jones,
Michelle Simonal,
Liliput,
Pulsallama,
The Music Machine,
Unwound,
Zero Boys,
Little Man,
Erasure,
The Invisible,
John Foxx,
Eric Copeland,
CMW,
Judy Mowatt,
Flipper,
Jacob Miller,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Youth Brigade,
The Selecter,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young,
Kas Product,
Unrelated Segments,
Rod Modell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rosa Yemen,
Eden Ahbez,
The Birthday Party,
Swell Maps,
Donald Byrd,
Television,
Joyce Sims,
Reagan Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Eli Mardock,
Absolute Body Control,
Roger Hodgson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sparks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Q and Not U,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Christie,
the Fania All-Stars,
PIL,
Gang Green,
Pylon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warren Ellis,
Pantytec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Freddie Wadling,
MC5,
Faust,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.