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 Taiwan and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Whodini to the rap 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Fluxion,
Icehouse,
Agitation Free,
Niagra,
Colin Newman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tommy Roe,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
The United States of America,
Piero Umiliani,
The Monks,
The Mummies,
Warsaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The American Breed,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ten City,
Wings,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter & Gordon,
Camberwell Now,
the Slits,
Scratch Acid,
Massinfluence,
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Ituana,
Hardrive,
Suburban Knight,
Derrick Morgan,
The Smoke,
Yaz,
The Music Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Goldenarms,
Malaria!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Anthony Braxton,
Rod Modell,
Franke,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Starr,
Erykah Badu,
Lindisfarne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Lydon,
Liliput,
Kas Product,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.