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 Uganda and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Silicon Teens to the jazz 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine 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?
Public Image Ltd.,
The Moody Blues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grey Daturas,
Babytalk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
10cc,
The Buckinghams,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Juan Atkins,
The Victims,
Deakin,
The Martian,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
Eden Ahbez,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Swans,
Crooked Eye,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ponytail,
Malaria!,
Tres Demented,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
X-Ray Spex,
Don Cherry,
Alison Limerick,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Womack,
Pulsallama,
Mantronix,
The Evens,
Janne Schatter,
Dave Gahan,
The Dirtbombs,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Dolphy,
Ituana,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Real Kids,
Cymande,
Minutemen,
Rapeman,
The Busters,
Motorama,
Y Pants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Peter and Kerry,
Scan 7,
The Techniques,
Kerri Chandler,
Stereo Dub,
The Smoke,
Harry Pussy,
cv313,
The Slackers,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.