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 Palau and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 kango's stein massive to the techno 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Aloha Tigers,
Khruangbin,
Young Marble Giants,
Lightning Bolt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Essential Logic,
Liliput,
Anakelly,
Reuben Wilson,
Parry Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Clear Light,
The Trojans,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faraquet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
One Last Wish,
Massinfluence,
Cybotron,
Audionom,
Skaos,
Black Bananas,
Talk Talk,
Minor Threat,
48th St. Collective,
Quadrant,
The Buckinghams,
Eli Mardock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Grauzone,
The Fortunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
D'Angelo,
The Red Krayola,
Bauhaus,
Spandau Ballet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Associates,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Byron Stingily,
Radiohead,
Chrome,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cheater Slicks,
Deakin,
The Cramps,
the Fania All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Gabor Szabo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Soul II Soul,
The Gap Band,
Jacques Brel,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.