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 Netherlands and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Black Sheep to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kayak,
Bad Manners,
Crime,
Black Flag,
Drexciya,
The Last Poets,
Negative Approach,
Lungfish,
T.S.O.L.,
Con Funk Shun,
The American Breed,
The Birthday Party,
Von Mondo,
The Cure,
The Fugs,
Bob Dylan,
Moby Grape,
The Kinks,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
Piero Umiliani,
AZ,
Skarface,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department,
The Divine Comedy,
The Real Kids,
Bill Near,
D'Angelo,
Swell Maps,
kango's stein massive,
The Litter,
Hashim,
Pantaleimon,
Chris & Cosey,
Terry Callier,
Cheater Slicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Wells,
Colin Newman,
Sam Rivers,
Dave Gahan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cluster,
Interpol,
Technova,
Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Royal Trux,
In Retrospect,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
The Slits,
Porter Ricks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.