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 Haiti and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Vladislav Delay to the rock 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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Freddie Wadling,
Nico,
Pulsallama,
the Swans,
The Music Machine,
Deakin,
Simply Red,
John Foxx,
Lungfish,
Clear Light,
Bill Wells,
ABBA,
Kayak,
Roxette,
Can,
June Days,
10cc,
Sarah Menescal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Pus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Sheep,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dead Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gichy Dan,
Matthew Halsall,
Stetsasonic,
Dawn Penn,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Andrew Hill,
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
FM Einheit,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hot Snakes,
The Velvet Underground,
Chris Corsano,
Graham Central Station,
The Leaves,
Sun Ra,
The Fire Engines,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T. Rex,
Swell Maps,
Ken Boothe,
Hoover,
Yazoo,
Agent Orange,
Echospace,
Jerry's Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.