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 Uruguay and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hot Snakes,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Pus,
The Gun Club,
Marc Almond,
The Searchers,
ABC,
Camberwell Now,
Television Personalities,
Gichy Dan,
Wally Richardson,
Little Man,
Neil Young,
Bobby Byrd,
The Evens,
Sonic Youth,
The Tremeloes,
The American Breed,
Sugar Minott,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun Ra,
Mark Hollis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cramps,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Last Poets,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
The Divine Comedy,
Guru Guru,
Lungfish,
Henry Cow,
Echospace,
Bad Manners,
R.M.O.,
Drexciya,
Donny Hathaway,
The Barracudas,
The Angels of Light,
Mantronix,
MDC,
Lalann,
Rapeman,
Lightning Bolt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Metal Thangz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Aural Exciters,
Kurtis Blow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultra Naté,
The Martian,
Joe Finger,
Harpers Bizarre,
Youth Brigade,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.