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 Marshall Islands and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Matthew Halsall to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bauhaus,
Television Personalities,
Niagra,
Cluster,
New Age Steppers,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash,
Main Source,
Alison Limerick,
Radiohead,
Hasil Adkins,
Sound Behaviour,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers,
The Walker Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Von Mondo,
Los Fastidios,
Pole,
The Busters,
Audionom,
Skarface,
David Axelrod,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeff Mills,
H. Thieme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Dolphy,
Simply Red,
Pussy Galore,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wasted Youth,
Model 500,
The Smoke,
Gang Gang Dance,
Henry Cow,
Don Cherry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aswad,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Moon,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pretty Things,
Pere Ubu,
Warren Ellis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scott Walker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fad Gadget,
Juan Atkins,
Q and Not U,
The J.B.'s,
Tom Boy,
The Real Kids,
Lindisfarne,
The Divine Comedy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.