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 Russia and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Severed Heads to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Pantytec,
The Selecter,
Funkadelic,
Surgeon,
Toni Rubio,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Desert Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Adolescents,
Fad Gadget,
Niagra,
Scrapy,
Guru Guru,
Radio Birdman,
Minor Threat,
Althea and Donna,
Delta 5,
Boogie Down Productions,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boz Scaggs,
Sex Pistols,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jandek,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Arab on Radar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Parry Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wally Richardson,
Sun City Girls,
The Black Dice,
Shoche,
Half Japanese,
Bob Dylan,
Kerri Chandler,
Lungfish,
La Düsseldorf,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Lydon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Hood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
Marc Almond,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
PIL,
Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
Altered Images,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fall,
T. Rex,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.