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 Cuba and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the punk 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mummies,
Black Sheep,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Knickerbockers,
Letta Mbulu,
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
La Düsseldorf,
Iggy Pop,
Arab on Radar,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aswad,
Accadde A,
Vladislav Delay,
Theoretical Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Main Source,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mojo Men,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fear,
Suburban Knight,
Black Bananas,
The Smiths,
Adolescents,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Near,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fugazi,
Jandek,
Clear Light,
The Buckinghams,
Agent Orange,
Lightning Bolt,
Boz Scaggs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rekid,
Half Japanese,
Junior Murvin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rufus Thomas,
Q and Not U,
Fatback Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dual Sessions,
Bush Tetras,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeff Mills,
Smog,
Matthew Halsall,
Cheater Slicks,
cv313,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.