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 Yemen and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Saints to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bluetip,
Average White Band,
Chris Corsano,
Bootsy Collins,
Infiniti,
Royal Trux,
John Cale,
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
Scrapy,
Television Personalities,
The Selecter,
Marine Girls,
Bauhaus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vainqueur,
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
the Germs,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
Agitation Free,
Mars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barbara Tucker,
L. Decosne,
Circle Jerks,
Gang of Four,
Hasil Adkins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Danielle Patucci,
Minnie Riperton,
Basic Channel,
Sister Nancy,
Josef K,
Clear Light,
Faust,
Gang Green,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mr. Review,
This Heat,
MDC,
The Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
La Düsseldorf,
UT,
R.M.O.,
The Mojo Men,
Pere Ubu,
Mantronix,
Sparks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Banda Bassotti,
Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Moleskins,
Public Enemy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.