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 Mozambique and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mark Hollis to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Black Dice,
Wire,
Severed Heads,
The Vogues,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Modern Lovers,
Pantaleimon,
Talk Talk,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
Excepter,
Amon Düül II,
The Mojo Men,
Lungfish,
The Cramps,
Nick Fraelich,
Stetsasonic,
Cal Tjader,
Lou Christie,
The Gun Club,
Sound Behaviour,
Echospace,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David McCallum,
The Fire Engines,
Sun Ra,
Hasil Adkins,
Adolescents,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Grass Roots,
The Names,
Arab on Radar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
The Divine Comedy,
Japan,
Nirvana,
The Fall,
Depeche Mode,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Surgeon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Supertramp,
The Gap Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cecil Taylor,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Freddie Wadling,
The Move,
Bill Wells,
Quando Quango,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
The Shadows of Knight,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.