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 Seychelles and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 John Lydon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hoover,
The Raincoats,
Ossler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tropical Tobacco,
cv313,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Osbourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Human League,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
U.S. Maple,
The American Breed,
Audionom,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aswad,
Young Marble Giants,
Das Ding,
Joey Negro,
The Grass Roots,
Pole,
Neil Young,
Black Moon,
Cal Tjader,
Barbara Tucker,
Monks,
Lower 48,
the Association,
Althea and Donna,
The Smiths,
Bill Near,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June Days,
Schoolly D,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Livin' Joy,
Agitation Free,
Janne Schatter,
The Skatalites,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Evens,
The Doors,
Swans,
Bronski Beat,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.