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 Libya and from Glasgow.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Residents,
Robert Hood,
Interpol,
Black Pus,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cowsills,
Alton Ellis,
Easy Going,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Crime,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
The Slackers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maurizio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Suburban Knight,
The Happenings,
Derrick May,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül II,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Index,
Shoche,
Ornette Coleman,
Sandy B,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Mojo Men,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
Bob Dylan,
Excepter,
The Fortunes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Vogues,
Sonic Youth,
10cc,
Sound Behaviour,
Depeche Mode,
Ash Ra Tempel,
FM Einheit,
Grey Daturas,
The Move,
Gabor Szabo,
The Walker Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
Chrome,
Isaac Hayes,
Clear Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ronnie Foster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Animal Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.