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 Belgium and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Moss Icon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Idris Muhammad,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Wyatt,
the Sonics,
Suburban Knight,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Carl Craig,
Amazonics,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
Deepchord,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Green,
A Certain Ratio,
UT,
Interpol,
The Black Dice,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skaos,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mummies,
Derrick Morgan,
Kurtis Blow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Normal,
The Beau Brummels,
Tim Buckley,
Slave,
The Victims,
Wire,
The Real Kids,
Black Bananas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
June of 44,
Silicon Teens,
Lindisfarne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nico,
Agitation Free,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Human League,
Swell Maps,
The Happenings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Moleskins,
Soul II Soul,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alison Limerick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Youth Brigade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Trojans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Throbbing Gristle,
U.S. Maple,
Metal Thangz,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.