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 Stockholm.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bad Manners to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Human League,
Monolake,
The Names,
L. Decosne,
Pussy Galore,
The Count Five,
New York Dolls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Isaac Hayes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wings,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Excepter,
Ponytail,
Arcadia,
Ituana,
Procol Harum,
Mars,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pantaleimon,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
Ultimate Spinach,
Carl Craig,
Throbbing Gristle,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Bourne,
ABC,
The Divine Comedy,
Lalann,
Yaz,
Dave Gahan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Saints,
Byron Stingily,
Warsaw,
Heaven 17,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Surgeon,
The Fuzztones,
the Association,
The Invisible,
The Angels of Light,
Slick Rick,
Stetsasonic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quando Quango,
Boz Scaggs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ornette Coleman,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Womack,
Thompson Twins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.