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 Taiwan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Freddie Wadling to the jazz 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
New Order,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
Heaven 17,
Siglo XX,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sex Pistols,
Japan,
Hashim,
Man Parrish,
Derrick Morgan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Youth Brigade,
Zapp,
Bauhaus,
Guru Guru,
Jeff Lynne,
PIL,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lucky Dragons,
Sugar Minott,
The Red Krayola,
Wings,
Radiohead,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
Icehouse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marmalade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Magazine,
Brass Construction,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Erasure,
Adolescents,
MC5,
The Fire Engines,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nirvana,
Rod Modell,
Pole,
Eli Mardock,
Malaria!,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
Cybotron,
The Black Dice,
The Associates,
The Toasters,
Tomorrow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moebius,
Joyce Sims,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.