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 Guatemala and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grunge 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Christie,
Bronski Beat,
Lucky Dragons,
Young Marble Giants,
David Axelrod,
The Music Machine,
Jesper Dahlback,
Derrick May,
Neu!,
U.S. Maple,
Wings,
Slave,
Ice-T,
Magazine,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker,
Robert Wyatt,
Tim Buckley,
The Fugs,
The Motions,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skaos,
The Dave Clark Five,
H. Thieme,
Faraquet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Delta 5,
Masters at Work,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxette,
Au Pairs,
Motorama,
Wire,
Camberwell Now,
Bizarre Inc.,
Basic Channel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grauzone,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mission of Burma,
The Last Poets,
AZ,
the Sonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Cluster,
Black Pus,
Intrusion,
The Smiths,
Gang Green,
Johnny Clarke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roger Hodgson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
Liliput,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Names,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.