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 Russia and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the grime 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
La Düsseldorf,
Audionom,
Essential Logic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kurtis Blow,
Theoretical Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Standells,
Eli Mardock,
Rufus Thomas,
The Victims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Swans,
Cybotron,
Roxette,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tim Buckley,
Amon Düül,
Dennis Brown,
X-101,
Black Moon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scientists,
Urselle,
Bad Manners,
the Normal,
The Grass Roots,
Model 500,
Magazine,
Warren Ellis,
Desert Stars,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Evens,
MC5,
Sparks,
Quantec,
L. Decosne,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed,
Skaos,
The Music Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Josef K,
Faust,
The Stooges,
The Five Americans,
Smog,
Ultimate Spinach,
E-Dancer,
A Certain Ratio,
EPMD,
Eden Ahbez,
Lakeside,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
The Fuzztones,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.