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 Bhutan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 The Dead C to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Laurel Aitken,
Y Pants,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gladiators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare,
Susan Cadogan,
Grey Daturas,
The Smoke,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brass Construction,
10cc,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Black Sheep,
Eden Ahbez,
Lightning Bolt,
Hashim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
Magma,
Bob Dylan,
The Zeros,
Model 500,
Alphaville,
Silicon Teens,
Minnie Riperton,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Infiniti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Red Krayola,
The Young Rascals,
DJ Style,
The Cramps,
Jerry's Kids,
Judy Mowatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yazoo,
T. Rex,
David McCallum,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy Collins,
Amazonics,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric Copeland,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yaz,
Banda Bassotti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Maurizio,
Matthew Bourne,
The Move,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.