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 Guinea-Bissau and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Five Americans to the grime 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Pretty Things,
The Move,
Reuben Wilson,
Yusef Lateef,
Soft Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Kerri Chandler,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers,
Rites of Spring,
The Seeds,
The New Christs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sonny Sharrock,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Almond,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dead C,
Tommy Roe,
Ice-T,
Quando Quango,
Supertramp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Audionom,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scan 7,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quantec,
The Knickerbockers,
Rosa Yemen,
Section 25,
Tubeway Army,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cramps,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Morten Harket,
Tres Demented,
Television,
Jawbox,
Eddi Front,
Man Eating Sloth,
Max Romeo,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Lydon,
Drexciya,
The Gun Club,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
Glenn Branca,
Grandmaster Flash,
Vainqueur,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tears for Fears,
Gregory Isaacs,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.