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 Bhutan and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 David Axelrod to the dance 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The New Christs,
Rotary Connection,
Television Personalities,
Glambeats Corp.,
MDC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
The Young Rascals,
Lightning Bolt,
Lungfish,
Tommy Roe,
Eli Mardock,
Television,
Aural Exciters,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Association,
The Angels of Light,
Talk Talk,
Wolf Eyes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Flag,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sixth Finger,
Yaz,
OOIOO,
Derrick May,
Massinfluence,
Pantytec,
Parry Music,
The Sonics,
Main Source,
One Last Wish,
Bang On A Can,
Simply Red,
Hardrive,
Sonny Sharrock,
Maurizio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Duran Duran,
Warren Ellis,
Spoonie Gee,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Banda Bassotti,
Kas Product,
D'Angelo,
Moebius,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fat Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stereo Dub,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.