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 Singapore and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Vogues to the jazz 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
The Searchers,
Ossler,
Loose Ends,
The Standells,
The Slits,
Scion,
Sixth Finger,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Erykah Badu,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hardrive,
Marmalade,
DJ Sneak,
Black Pus,
Throbbing Gristle,
June of 44,
Sexual Harrassment,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Real Kids,
Ronan,
Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Normal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fortunes,
Rotary Connection,
Cal Tjader,
Wolf Eyes,
Roger Hodgson,
Blossom Toes,
the Slits,
This Heat,
Rapeman,
Accadde A,
Section 25,
Lou Reed,
Blake Baxter,
PIL,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
The Tremeloes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
Connie Case,
Cameo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Whodini,
Gabor Szabo,
MDC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Subhumans,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Flipper,
Nico,
Bootsy Collins,
Aaron Thompson,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.