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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 The Move to the rap 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Make Up,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nirvana,
The Moleskins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Easy Going,
Shuggie Otis,
The Five Americans,
Goldenarms,
Unrelated Segments,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June Days,
Outsiders,
Camouflage,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Human League,
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
Icehouse,
Faust,
Minny Pops,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Can,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Monochrome Set,
Lindisfarne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mr. Review,
Rosa Yemen,
Adolescents,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
Matthew Halsall,
Rites of Spring,
Hoover,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Funkadelic,
Swans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Little Man,
Morten Harket,
A Flock of Seagulls,
A Certain Ratio,
Agitation Free,
Terrestrial Tones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tom Boy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neu!,
PIL,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.