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 Calgary.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Janne Schatter to the punk 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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Stetsasonic,
Tears for Fears,
China Crisis,
Adolescents,
Bobby Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Absolute Body Control,
The Star Department,
10cc,
Ten City,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Patti Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scan 7,
The Dead C,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cramps,
Slave,
Oblivians,
Minutemen,
June of 44,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
Mars,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Matthew Halsall,
Archie Shepp,
Moebius,
Gong,
Guru Guru,
Nas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter and Kerry,
The Invisible,
Mad Mike,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Normal,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Sherman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blossom Toes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Delon & Dalcan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tim Buckley,
Electric Prunes,
Rekid,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fugs,
Morten Harket,
Wings,
the Germs,
Vainqueur,
Severed Heads,
Clear Light,
Tom Boy,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.