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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Q65 to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Joy Division,
The Skatalites,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
Suburban Knight,
Scion,
Das Ding,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swell Maps,
The Selecter,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moody Blues,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Desert Stars,
Stiv Bators,
PIL,
Royal Trux,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül,
the Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Procol Harum,
Gang Green,
Delta 5,
Country Teasers,
Albert Ayler,
the Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
Livin' Joy,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Wake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
H. Thieme,
Byron Stingily,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABBA,
David Bowie,
Sandy B,
Howard Jones,
Colin Newman,
The Monochrome Set,
Animal Collective,
Pierre Henry,
Tommy Roe,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pole,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Average White Band,
Andrew Hill,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.