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 Zambia and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 This Heat to the grime 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
the Normal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sandy B,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
Fad Gadget,
Barclay James Harvest,
Adolescents,
Cameo,
Index,
Make Up,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
Sight & Sound,
Oneida,
World's Most,
Bob Dylan,
Joensuu 1685,
Iggy Pop,
Can,
Tom Boy,
Tommy Roe,
The Beau Brummels,
Eden Ahbez,
Janne Schatter,
The Monks,
Marvin Gaye,
Goldenarms,
The Dirtbombs,
The Litter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Matthew Halsall,
The Leaves,
Arcadia,
Heaven 17,
The Slits,
The Pop Group,
Chris Corsano,
Oblivians,
Theoretical Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Residents,
Lakeside,
Camberwell Now,
The Durutti Column,
Kerri Chandler,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mars,
Charles Mingus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nils Olav,
10cc,
The Alarm Clocks,
Organ,
Ten City,
Throbbing Gristle,
AZ,
The Birthday Party,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.