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 Yemen and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Camouflage to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Starr,
The Star Department,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cowsills,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Maurizio,
Urselle,
The Blues Magoos,
Tommy Roe,
The Dirtbombs,
Deepchord,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Popol Vuh,
The Gap Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Roxette,
Jimmy McGriff,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Skaos,
Heaven 17,
Eddi Front,
Los Fastidios,
F. McDonald,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sonics,
Mark Hollis,
The Birthday Party,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nils Olav,
Chris & Cosey,
Flash Fearless,
Siglo XX,
Joyce Sims,
Marine Girls,
Robert Hood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Amazonics,
Supertramp,
Ponytail,
MDC,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Angry Samoans,
Lyres,
Bobby Byrd,
Deakin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lower 48,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
John Foxx,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Hashim,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.