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 Suriname and from New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Detroit Cobras to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
World's Most,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cybotron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Iggy Pop,
Unwound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Near,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Skatalites,
Jeff Mills,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Saccharine Trust,
Pagans,
Barrington Levy,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gun Club,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arthur Verocai,
8 Eyed Spy,
Japan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Section 25,
The Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minny Pops,
Crispy Ambulance,
LL Cool J,
The Divine Comedy,
The New Christs,
The Knickerbockers,
Faraquet,
UT,
The Raincoats,
Aaron Thompson,
Sight & Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Goldenarms,
Lower 48,
Franke,
Underground Resistance,
Brothers Johnson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Prince Buster,
John Cale,
Black Flag,
Cecil Taylor,
Johnny Clarke,
The Buckinghams,
Radio Birdman,
China Crisis,
Gang Green,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.