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 Chad and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Divine Comedy to the punk 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Scion,
Bobby Womack,
Unwound,
The Slackers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Magazine,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lucky Dragons,
The Neon Judgement,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swans,
AZ,
Fluxion,
Rekid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Pop Group,
The Blues Magoos,
Nico,
Bill Wells,
Pulsallama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wasted Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arcadia,
Saccharine Trust,
Grey Daturas,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rakim,
The Mojo Men,
Iggy Pop,
Animal Collective,
Drexciya,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
The Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boz Scaggs,
Agent Orange,
the Swans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-101,
Erasure,
Eric Copeland,
The Techniques,
Rod Modell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mantronix,
H. Thieme,
Spoonie Gee,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fela Kuti,
Darondo,
Sonic Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.