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 St Lucia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Sixth Finger to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Human League,
Los Fastidios,
The Barracudas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rotary Connection,
Deadbeat,
Marine Girls,
Pagans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronnie Foster,
The Tremeloes,
Fugazi,
Kayak,
Harmonia,
Au Pairs,
Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
EPMD,
Amazonics,
The Trojans,
Todd Rundgren,
The Slits,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wasted Youth,
Oblivians,
Monks,
Joey Negro,
The Smoke,
Gang Green,
New Age Steppers,
Barrington Levy,
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Golliwogs,
Make Up,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mission of Burma,
Whodini,
The Offenders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective,
Surgeon,
Aural Exciters,
Warsaw,
Darondo,
Motorama,
Banda Bassotti,
Radiohead,
Crash Course in Science,
The Techniques,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cramps,
Chrome,
Brass Construction,
Albert Ayler,
Lyres,
Tropical Tobacco,
Morten Harket,
The United States of America,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.