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 Uganda and from Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Theoretical Girls to the electroclash 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Niagra,
Chrome,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Starr,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
10cc,
the Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gladiators,
The Music Machine,
The Selecter,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Wells,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fuzztones,
Piero Umiliani,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Happenings,
Oblivians,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fortunes,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Neon Judgement,
Minutemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crime,
A Certain Ratio,
Ten City,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Black Dice,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stetsasonic,
DJ Sneak,
Sixth Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thee Headcoats,
Joy Division,
The Mummies,
The Victims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Japan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Buzzcocks,
Yaz,
Pantaleimon,
David McCallum,
Joe Smooth,
Pierre Henry,
Jacques Brel,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.