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 Latvia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 United States of America to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Durutti Column,
The Litter,
The Tremeloes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minutemen,
Model 500,
Alison Limerick,
Visage,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pere Ubu,
JFA,
Terrestrial Tones,
Judy Mowatt,
The Misunderstood,
Pulsallama,
Glenn Branca,
Anthony Braxton,
Connie Case,
Underground Resistance,
Suicide,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Camouflage,
Barry Ungar,
The Walker Brothers,
Aaron Thompson,
Heaven 17,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dead C,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Infiniti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Masters at Work,
Marc Almond,
Bluetip,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott Heron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kas Product,
Neu!,
Suburban Knight,
Symarip,
Derrick Morgan,
Reuben Wilson,
Altered Images,
Gabor Szabo,
Joey Negro,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
Magazine,
48th St. Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Black Moon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultravox,
Subhumans,
Josef K,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.