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 Qatar and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Marcia Griffiths to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sun Ra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
The Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
Das Ding,
Blancmange,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
K-Klass,
Scientists,
Underground Resistance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chris Corsano,
The Red Krayola,
MDC,
Animal Collective,
Duran Duran,
Yellowson,
Colin Newman,
The Dirtbombs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rakim,
Minutemen,
Don Cherry,
The Cowsills,
James White and The Blacks,
The Motions,
John Coltrane,
The Index,
Johnny Clarke,
Metal Thangz,
Subhumans,
the Slits,
The Count Five,
Alphaville,
Fat Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Spandau Ballet,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Vogues,
David McCallum,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kool Moe Dee,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
PIL,
Marc Almond,
Rod Modell,
June of 44,
Jawbox,
Steve Hackett,
The Star Department,
Pantaleimon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Technova,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
X-Ray Spex,
The Searchers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Severed Heads,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.