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 Barbados and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blancmange to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 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 Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
One Last Wish,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DNA,
Prince Buster,
the Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Görl,
The Toasters,
UT,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Happenings,
Warren Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Human League,
Kurtis Blow,
The Motions,
The Star Department,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Siglo XX,
U.S. Maple,
Underground Resistance,
The Gories,
Inner City,
Soft Machine,
Alphaville,
Howard Jones,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultravox,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Archie Shepp,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Rundgren,
Max Romeo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Janne Schatter,
Ponytail,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tom Boy,
Delta 5,
Monks,
Groovy Waters,
Yaz,
Unwound,
Junior Murvin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minor Threat,
Bootsy Collins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Byron Stingily,
Morten Harket,
The Birthday Party,
Hoover,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.