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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Franke to the funk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Moody Blues,
Average White Band,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oneida,
Flash Fearless,
Laurel Aitken,
John Lydon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Metal Thangz,
Reuben Wilson,
Nils Olav,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Inner City,
Section 25,
Lou Reed,
Scott Walker,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alphaville,
Neu!,
Carl Craig,
Bill Wells,
Silicon Teens,
Sex Pistols,
the Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays,
Pylon,
Stereo Dub,
Maurizio,
Shoche,
The Black Dice,
Ken Boothe,
Magma,
Funkadelic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sandy B,
Cluster,
Warsaw,
The Gories,
Quando Quango,
David Bowie,
Radiohead,
Mo-Dettes,
The Busters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minutemen,
The Trojans,
Pharoah Sanders,
EPMD,
Mandrill,
Loose Ends,
Ultra Naté,
Joensuu 1685,
Negative Approach,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Christie,
Rapeman,
Suburban Knight,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.