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 Lithuania and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Young Marble Giants to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deadbeat,
Dead Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Happenings,
The Wake,
Minor Threat,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donald Byrd,
Television,
Parry Music,
Agitation Free,
The Electric Prunes,
Roxy Music,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Flag,
Davy DMX,
Jacques Brel,
The Slackers,
The Standells,
The Kinks,
Panda Bear,
Public Enemy,
Half Japanese,
The Associates,
Bill Near,
China Crisis,
Brick,
Gang of Four,
Don Cherry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boz Scaggs,
CMW,
Lakeside,
X-101,
Tubeway Army,
Whodini,
John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bang On A Can,
The Selecter,
Slick Rick,
Sugar Minott,
Youth Brigade,
Underground Resistance,
The Buckinghams,
Nils Olav,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
Desert Stars,
Slave,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Procol Harum,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Hill,
Loose Ends,
Wire,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.