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 Marshall Islands and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare 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 Move to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joe Finger,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
Surgeon,
The Divine Comedy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dead Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Hot Snakes,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brick,
Joyce Sims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soul II Soul,
Erykah Badu,
The Evens,
These Immortal Souls,
Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Standells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nas,
the Normal,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Starr,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-Ray Spex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blues Magoos,
Depeche Mode,
Unwound,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Hill,
Cymande,
Aloha Tigers,
Hashim,
Darondo,
Graham Central Station,
Bauhaus,
Brass Construction,
Cecil Taylor,
Livin' Joy,
Wally Richardson,
Wings,
Black Flag,
Black Bananas,
Japan,
Fat Boys,
Iggy Pop,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Wells,
Technova,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.