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 Monaco and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ken Boothe to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Certain Ratio,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dirtbombs,
Al Stewart,
The Associates,
The Smoke,
Loose Ends,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Basic Channel,
Camouflage,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fall,
The Moody Blues,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rapeman,
The Cure,
The Wake,
Shoche,
Y Pants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Juan Atkins,
The Fugs,
This Heat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Beau Brummels,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eddi Front,
KRS-One,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shuggie Otis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Danielle Patucci,
Lucky Dragons,
Wings,
Magazine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
The Last Poets,
The Five Americans,
Blake Baxter,
Pylon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Desert Stars,
The Skatalites,
Dave Gahan,
Warren Ellis,
Underground Resistance,
Alphaville,
Yellowson,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Rundgren,
The Golliwogs,
Delta 5,
Smog,
Schoolly D,
Bill Near,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.