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 Mexico and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Neon Judgement to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fall,
Lungfish,
The Standells,
Groovy Waters,
The Count Five,
The Moleskins,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blues Magoos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cameo,
Cecil Taylor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
Vladislav Delay,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed,
Rekid,
James White and The Blacks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Golliwogs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scientists,
Visage,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eric Dolphy,
Crime,
Suicide,
Minny Pops,
Theoretical Girls,
The Seeds,
Nils Olav,
Motorama,
the Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Steve Hackett,
The Gap Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sam Rivers,
Livin' Joy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Accadde A,
Sight & Sound,
Faust,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blancmange,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
F. McDonald,
Moby Grape,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.