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 Hungary and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 Supertramp to the electroclash 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Brass Construction,
Goldenarms,
Q and Not U,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alice Coltrane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June of 44,
The Dirtbombs,
X-102,
Marine Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
The Smoke,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cecil Taylor,
Little Man,
Mars,
Pierre Henry,
Niagra,
The Vogues,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hashim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Barracudas,
Peter & Gordon,
The Black Dice,
John Foxx,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slits,
B.T. Express,
Loose Ends,
Eddi Front,
Matthew Bourne,
Faraquet,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Danielle Patucci,
The Misunderstood,
Television,
Nick Fraelich,
This Heat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Reuben Wilson,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monochrome Set,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Wyatt,
The Last Poets,
Mark Hollis,
Minutemen,
Eric Dolphy,
The Five Americans,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
Half Japanese,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cybotron,
Darondo,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.