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 Haiti and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 The Raincoats to the dance 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mark Hollis,
The Fall,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Loose Ends,
Brothers Johnson,
Henry Cow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moebius,
DNA,
Ultravox,
The Stooges,
Y Pants,
K-Klass,
Toni Rubio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ten City,
Yellowson,
Warren Ellis,
David Axelrod,
Robert Wyatt,
Organ,
Matthew Halsall,
Yazoo,
Brass Construction,
Duran Duran,
Iggy Pop,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
Don Cherry,
The Saints,
Royal Trux,
Camouflage,
Ituana,
Archie Shepp,
Alton Ellis,
Ohio Players,
Masters at Work,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nick Fraelich,
Eddi Front,
Marine Girls,
The Raincoats,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Infiniti,
Dead Boys,
The Residents,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Derrick May,
The Smoke,
Chrome,
Buzzcocks,
Cameo,
Janne Schatter,
The Buckinghams,
Boredoms,
Nas,
Wasted Youth,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.