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 Honduras and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Young Marble Giants,
Faust,
Television Personalities,
The Knickerbockers,
UT,
The Star Department,
Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Anthony Braxton,
Blossom Toes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Don Cherry,
Arcadia,
David Bowie,
Aloha Tigers,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blackbyrds,
Spoonie Gee,
Con Funk Shun,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Max Romeo,
Harmonia,
Henry Cow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scientists,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funky Four + One,
Rakim,
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
This Heat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Selecter,
The Human League,
The Music Machine,
the Association,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joy Division,
Drexciya,
Chris Corsano,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Blake Baxter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
John Lydon,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zapp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
The Martian,
John Coltrane,
Todd Rundgren,
Groovy Waters,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.