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 Kosovo and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flamin' Groovies to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arthur Verocai,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Talk Talk,
Ituana,
Radio Birdman,
Cluster,
Marc Almond,
Average White Band,
Rakim,
Soft Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crispian St. Peters,
Parry Music,
Arab on Radar,
Marmalade,
Wally Richardson,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kayak,
The Electric Prunes,
T.S.O.L.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
Alison Limerick,
Sonic Youth,
Ultravox,
a-ha,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sam Rivers,
Pere Ubu,
Fat Boys,
Intrusion,
Q65,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gastr Del Sol,
Slick Rick,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
The New Christs,
the Germs,
The Motions,
The Walker Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Chrome,
The Blackbyrds,
Roger Hodgson,
Scan 7,
the Bar-Kays,
Subhumans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Swans,
Q and Not U,
Gregory Isaacs,
T. Rex,
Slave,
10cc,
Thee Headcoats,
Gong,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.