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 Albania and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gang Starr to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wings,
Robert Görl,
The Martian,
Albert Ayler,
The Smoke,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
Danielle Patucci,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter & Gordon,
Aswad,
Juan Atkins,
Tubeway Army,
Lalann,
Minutemen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Second Layer,
The Golliwogs,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mummies,
Gichy Dan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
In Retrospect,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minor Threat,
ABC,
The Birthday Party,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Terry,
Negative Approach,
The Searchers,
Lindisfarne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hoover,
Organ,
Fad Gadget,
The Gun Club,
Excepter,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kayak,
Anthony Braxton,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Pylon,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Panda Bear,
A Certain Ratio,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.