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 Korea South and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 Malaria! to the disco 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Livin' Joy,
Kenny Larkin,
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
Chris & Cosey,
Kerri Chandler,
Delon & Dalcan,
Panda Bear,
Underground Resistance,
The Slackers,
Dennis Brown,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Flag,
Audionom,
Loose Ends,
Funkadelic,
Khruangbin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barry Ungar,
Stereo Dub,
The Last Poets,
The Count Five,
Camberwell Now,
Rod Modell,
Lou Reed,
The Star Department,
The Victims,
Buzzcocks,
Rufus Thomas,
The Zeros,
Jacob Miller,
Soul II Soul,
Eden Ahbez,
cv313,
Jeff Mills,
Neil Young,
The Sound,
The Techniques,
This Heat,
In Retrospect,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nas,
Can,
The Monks,
New Order,
Max Romeo,
Warren Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The J.B.'s,
Newcleus,
Graham Central Station,
Bang On A Can,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Alton Ellis,
Oneida,
Carl Craig,
The Red Krayola,
Bob Dylan,
New York Dolls,
Symarip,
Supertramp,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.