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 Eritrea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin 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 Fire Engines to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Robert Hood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Adolescents,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Starr,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Section 25,
Erasure,
Khruangbin,
Monolake,
John Lydon,
The Barracudas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Underground Resistance,
Marvin Gaye,
Aloha Tigers,
The Neon Judgement,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Searchers,
Porter Ricks,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gun Club,
Eddi Front,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boredoms,
Funky Four + One,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pole,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Clarke,
Rod Modell,
The Stooges,
Roger Hodgson,
Ten City,
Magma,
Ronan,
Bauhaus,
Joy Division,
Nirvana,
Erykah Badu,
The Residents,
Masters at Work,
Frankie Knuckles,
Leonard Cohen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Invisible,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Lynne,
Harmonia,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.