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 Colombia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Panda Bear to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Graham Central Station,
Ice-T,
The Five Americans,
Thompson Twins,
Rod Modell,
F. McDonald,
Bush Tetras,
Hardrive,
R.M.O.,
Malaria!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lyres,
Albert Ayler,
The Fuzztones,
Leonard Cohen,
Deepchord,
Harmonia,
Lindisfarne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rotary Connection,
The Beau Brummels,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
a-ha,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Unrelated Segments,
Fat Boys,
In Retrospect,
Ponytail,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Amazonics,
Theoretical Girls,
The Saints,
The Velvet Underground,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fela Kuti,
Moss Icon,
Mo-Dettes,
Supertramp,
Young Marble Giants,
Ludus,
Silicon Teens,
T. Rex,
The Invisible,
Chrome,
The Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moby Grape,
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-102,
Organ,
Eli Mardock,
The Birthday Party,
Radio Birdman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Howard Jones,
OOIOO,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.