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 Lesotho and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moby Grape to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
The Sonics,
Trumans Water,
D'Angelo,
Fear,
The Searchers,
The Standells,
The Index,
Talk Talk,
Juan Atkins,
Cybotron,
Sparks,
Pantaleimon,
The Techniques,
R.M.O.,
Newcleus,
The Victims,
The J.B.'s,
Godley & Creme,
Underground Resistance,
K-Klass,
The Fugs,
Gong,
Fugazi,
Iggy Pop,
The Wake,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Mighty Diamonds,
H. Thieme,
Lindisfarne,
Lakeside,
The Beau Brummels,
Hot Snakes,
Procol Harum,
Black Moon,
Basic Channel,
Rod Modell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Derrick May,
Tom Boy,
The Gun Club,
The Moody Blues,
Dark Day,
Sällskapet,
The Angels of Light,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crime,
Oblivians,
Letta Mbulu,
Dual Sessions,
Joe Finger,
Tommy Roe,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
Cluster,
Stereo Dub,
Neil Young,
Urselle,
Pere Ubu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.