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 St Lucia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Amon Düül II to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
Loose Ends,
Ornette Coleman,
Tears for Fears,
Davy DMX,
Soft Machine,
Subhumans,
Moss Icon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Moody Blues,
Marmalade,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cure,
The Standells,
The Velvet Underground,
David Bowie,
Aaron Thompson,
The Grass Roots,
Yazoo,
T. Rex,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Hood,
Stiv Bators,
Gichy Dan,
Babytalk,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Near,
Fear,
Bootsy Collins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Desert Stars,
The American Breed,
Carl Craig,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Warsaw,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
Robert Görl,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oblivians,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pierre Henry,
Chrome,
Saccharine Trust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
PIL,
Monks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.