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 the UAE 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-101 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Swell Maps,
Wire,
Quando Quango,
Basic Channel,
Black Flag,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Isaac Hayes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aural Exciters,
The Birthday Party,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q65,
X-Ray Spex,
Liliput,
Todd Terry,
The American Breed,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Arab on Radar,
Gastr Del Sol,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Slits,
Brothers Johnson,
Lower 48,
The Fall,
Laurel Aitken,
Marvin Gaye,
Guru Guru,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marmalade,
Joy Division,
Idris Muhammad,
June of 44,
Sound Behaviour,
Cal Tjader,
Technova,
Lyres,
The Evens,
Buzzcocks,
Steve Hackett,
Fad Gadget,
Althea and Donna,
Popol Vuh,
The Move,
OOIOO,
Pylon,
Half Japanese,
The Music Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Skriet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dead Boys,
Skarface,
Bush Tetras,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.