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 Gabon and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Victims to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Infiniti,
Henry Cow,
Vladislav Delay,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gun Club,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Carl Craig,
Vainqueur,
The Blackbyrds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June Days,
Magazine,
Underground Resistance,
The Pretty Things,
Terry Callier,
Eurythmics,
KRS-One,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television Personalities,
CMW,
The Buckinghams,
Dead Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Barracudas,
Scrapy,
Jacques Brel,
Juan Atkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Popol Vuh,
John Cale,
Dennis Brown,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Intrusion,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
The Selecter,
Thee Headcoats,
Technova,
the Bar-Kays,
The Divine Comedy,
Quantec,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alison Limerick,
The Beau Brummels,
Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
Subhumans,
Slick Rick,
Newcleus,
Nirvana,
Marmalade,
The Associates,
Radiohead,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.