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 Finland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer 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 The Selecter to the jazz 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Litter,
Sällskapet,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeff Mills,
Todd Terry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gichy Dan,
The Victims,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zapp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Groovy Waters,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Youth Brigade,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Raincoats,
Faust,
Janne Schatter,
Gang of Four,
Shuggie Otis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Womack,
Letta Mbulu,
Bauhaus,
The Fuzztones,
Guru Guru,
The Vogues,
Desert Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Franke,
The Buckinghams,
MC5,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hot Snakes,
Cybotron,
Unrelated Segments,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
Icehouse,
Fugazi,
Charles Mingus,
Royal Trux,
Jacob Miller,
The Motions,
Bizarre Inc.,
Drexciya,
Rekid,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
Stockholm Monsters,
Duran Duran,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-Ray Spex,
Symarip,
The American Breed,
Dave Gahan,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.