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 Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stooges to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Isaac Hayes,
Maurizio,
Deepchord,
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lower 48,
Soul II Soul,
Reuben Wilson,
Moby Grape,
Scan 7,
The Cure,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
Marmalade,
Crime,
Hasil Adkins,
Bluetip,
The Angels of Light,
Steve Hackett,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rosa Yemen,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Monochrome Set,
Main Source,
The Remains,
Cheater Slicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Scratch Acid,
David Bowie,
Zero Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Camouflage,
Ice-T,
Wally Richardson,
The Offenders,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
Minor Threat,
Sarah Menescal,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Severed Heads,
Average White Band,
Oblivians,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
Whodini,
A Certain Ratio,
The Velvet Underground,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harry Pussy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Massinfluence,
The Busters,
K-Klass,
New York Dolls,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.