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 Romania and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron 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 June of 44 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Surgeon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Lydon,
A Certain Ratio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Al Stewart,
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Glenn Branca,
The Selecter,
Sight & Sound,
Neu!,
Arcadia,
The Searchers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
Sister Nancy,
Sound Behaviour,
The Invisible,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed,
Supertramp,
Ice-T,
Moebius,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Wake,
The Litter,
John Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
Funkadelic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Five Americans,
Fluxion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Delta 5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bill Near,
Underground Resistance,
Grey Daturas,
Whodini,
These Immortal Souls,
The Birthday Party,
Mantronix,
Minor Threat,
The Mummies,
Pantaleimon,
Masters at Work,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Television Personalities,
Niagra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Patti Smith,
Pussy Galore,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.