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 Bulgaria and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oblivians,
Gang Green,
Sister Nancy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Susan Cadogan,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Birthday Party,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra,
X-Ray Spex,
Heaven 17,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Josef K,
Second Layer,
Donny Hathaway,
Harmonia,
Bauhaus,
The Gladiators,
Essential Logic,
June of 44,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arthur Verocai,
Lightning Bolt,
Television,
The Kinks,
Bronski Beat,
Hashim,
Ludus,
ABC,
Das Ding,
Connie Case,
Black Flag,
The Happenings,
Dark Day,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Monks,
Japan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Al Stewart,
Grey Daturas,
Johnny Clarke,
Swans,
Joey Negro,
Eli Mardock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Echospace,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
Agent Orange,
cv313,
K-Klass,
The Trojans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
New Age Steppers,
The Modern Lovers,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.