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 Grenada and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
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 DNA to the disco 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Organ,
One Last Wish,
Junior Murvin,
Scrapy,
Harry Pussy,
Wings,
The Mummies,
Rites of Spring,
The Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Inner City,
Stiv Bators,
the Germs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Al Stewart,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Cale,
Cluster,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moss Icon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
Matthew Bourne,
Rufus Thomas,
Leonard Cohen,
Country Teasers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Avey Tare,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pole,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Birthday Party,
Bronski Beat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quando Quango,
EPMD,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Bananas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Carl Craig,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Searchers,
Basic Channel,
The Toasters,
The Doors,
Khruangbin,
Lightning Bolt,
The Walker Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
48th St. Collective,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.