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 Tuvalu and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Zero Boys to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
the Slits,
Tim Buckley,
Model 500,
Gang Starr,
Los Fastidios,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun Ra,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
B.T. Express,
Easy Going,
Main Source,
U.S. Maple,
The Moody Blues,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
D'Angelo,
Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deakin,
Porter Ricks,
The Cramps,
Sam Rivers,
The Five Americans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barry Ungar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cecil Taylor,
James White and The Blacks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ice-T,
Mo-Dettes,
Subhumans,
The Wake,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Television Personalities,
Buzzcocks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arcadia,
Cluster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ponytail,
Wasted Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hardrive,
The Barracudas,
Bush Tetras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soft Machine,
the Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
Aaron Thompson,
Public Enemy,
Dark Day,
Davy DMX,
Mars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.