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 Panama and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Boredoms to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Section 25,
Vladislav Delay,
Prince Buster,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Index,
Peter & Gordon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Lynne,
World's Most,
Infiniti,
Vainqueur,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronnie Foster,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Almond,
Yellowson,
Bad Manners,
Erasure,
Cybotron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Idris Muhammad,
A Certain Ratio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
Pulsallama,
The Vogues,
The United States of America,
Bobby Womack,
The Angels of Light,
Second Layer,
the Germs,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Associates,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hashim,
Eurythmics,
Underground Resistance,
Susan Cadogan,
Mr. Review,
The Litter,
Agent Orange,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quadrant,
Index,
Minny Pops,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ponytail,
Rod Modell,
Maurizio,
Japan,
Neil Young,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shoche,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brick,
Tubeway Army,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.