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 Ecuador and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Max Romeo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Inner City,
Sparks,
Byron Stingily,
Rekid,
The Five Americans,
Clear Light,
Young Marble Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stetsasonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Evens,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
The Black Dice,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Terry,
Von Mondo,
Gabor Szabo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
K-Klass,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantaleimon,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joy Division,
Frankie Knuckles,
Loose Ends,
Surgeon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wire,
Hardrive,
Pharoah Sanders,
Derrick Morgan,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
Gong,
Davy DMX,
EPMD,
Pantytec,
Khruangbin,
Amon Düül II,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker,
Chrome,
The Walker Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Cameo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tomorrow,
Warren Ellis,
The Residents,
John Lydon,
Deakin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Simply Red,
The Gap Band,
Rotary Connection,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.