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 Bahrain and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Robert Görl to the dance 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Fugazi,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Al Stewart,
The Moleskins,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
Rosa Yemen,
Bauhaus,
The Skatalites,
Colin Newman,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
Model 500,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
Basic Channel,
Gang Green,
Funkadelic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Electric Prunes,
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rod Modell,
Cameo,
The Angels of Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Symarip,
The New Christs,
Swell Maps,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Terry Callier,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Near,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arab on Radar,
Mission of Burma,
Archie Shepp,
Tears for Fears,
Nico,
Terrestrial Tones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Radiohead,
Underground Resistance,
Severed Heads,
Soulsonic Force,
PIL,
The Associates,
Nik Kershaw,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
Nils Olav,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Make Up,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.