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 Malta and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 the Soft Cell to the funk 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cure,
Loose Ends,
The Raincoats,
Dark Day,
Lou Reed,
Soul II Soul,
Jawbox,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Prince Buster,
ABC,
Kenny Larkin,
Ossler,
Gang Starr,
X-Ray Spex,
Blake Baxter,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Country Teasers,
Sparks,
Pantytec,
X-101,
Yellowson,
Lightning Bolt,
Funky Four + One,
The Techniques,
The Barracudas,
Nirvana,
The Zeros,
The Residents,
Das Ding,
Niagra,
Buzzcocks,
Tim Buckley,
Y Pants,
Fugazi,
Neil Young,
Maurizio,
Bad Manners,
Graham Central Station,
Liliput,
Easy Going,
Nik Kershaw,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aswad,
Hashim,
The Remains,
Minor Threat,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bob Dylan,
MC5,
Nas,
Newcleus,
Spoonie Gee,
Quantec,
The Velvet Underground,
Japan,
Eden Ahbez,
Archie Shepp,
The Names,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.