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 New Zealand and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Lagos and Accra.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Hashim to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Real Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
Suicide,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minor Threat,
The Doors,
Sun Ra,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
Mr. Review,
Banda Bassotti,
Fear,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Young Marble Giants,
Brand Nubian,
Loose Ends,
Bill Wells,
This Heat,
The Barracudas,
Godley & Creme,
Pierre Henry,
The Beau Brummels,
Model 500,
Depeche Mode,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hot Snakes,
Black Moon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sarah Menescal,
The Victims,
CMW,
L. Decosne,
Harmonia,
Talk Talk,
The Smoke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Terry Callier,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
The United States of America,
Derrick May,
Matthew Halsall,
Parry Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Half Japanese,
Franke,
48th St. Collective,
Deadbeat,
Black Flag,
A Certain Ratio,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.