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 Maldives and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pharoah Sanders to the crunk 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Little Man,
Fad Gadget,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Symarip,
Terry Callier,
Bauhaus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Heaven 17,
Patti Smith,
The Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Foxx,
The Move,
Oneida,
MDC,
Sound Behaviour,
Skriet,
Gang Green,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boredoms,
Blake Baxter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dead C,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jacques Brel,
Leonard Cohen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
June Days,
Mars,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dark Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Womack,
KRS-One,
The Divine Comedy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Babytalk,
Roger Hodgson,
Pantytec,
Deadbeat,
Rod Modell,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Near,
Todd Rundgren,
Throbbing Gristle,
Monks,
Pantaleimon,
The Slits,
Silicon Teens,
The Shadows of Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
X-Ray Spex,
Rekid,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.