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 Czech Republic and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Jacob Miller to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Pylon,
Cluster,
Bobby Sherman,
The Smoke,
Darondo,
Nick Fraelich,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Motorama,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lightning Bolt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Organ,
Sixth Finger,
Harry Pussy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fortunes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Desert Stars,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra,
Bush Tetras,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kaleidoscope,
Moss Icon,
Howard Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yellowson,
Joey Negro,
Rapeman,
Aural Exciters,
LL Cool J,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
OOIOO,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Susan Cadogan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nico,
Mad Mike,
Fugazi,
Brass Construction,
New Age Steppers,
Guru Guru,
Ponytail,
Vainqueur,
Charles Mingus,
Can,
Warsaw,
Blossom Toes,
Q65,
Jeff Mills,
the Slits,
Delta 5,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Busters,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.