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 Hungary and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Make Up to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Pussy Galore,
Barclay James Harvest,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boz Scaggs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Anthony Braxton,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Blake Baxter,
Little Man,
Funkadelic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gong,
Althea and Donna,
Eden Ahbez,
Stetsasonic,
The Move,
cv313,
The Leaves,
The Divine Comedy,
The Evens,
Mr. Review,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-Ray Spex,
the Human League,
Thompson Twins,
Fela Kuti,
Laurel Aitken,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Swans,
Mantronix,
In Retrospect,
Cecil Taylor,
Deepchord,
The Mummies,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ponytail,
Infiniti,
a-ha,
Eddi Front,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun Ra,
John Cale,
Warsaw,
The Sonics,
Aural Exciters,
Jeru the Damaja,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scott Walker,
Wings,
New Age Steppers,
Ronan,
Robert Hood,
Michelle Simonal,
The Kinks,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.