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 Gabon and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 Gang Green to the grunge 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonic Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Donald Byrd,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tim Buckley,
Isaac Hayes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Au Pairs,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fuzztones,
the Soft Cell,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe,
The Happenings,
Ponytail,
The Searchers,
JFA,
Gil Scott Heron,
Section 25,
H. Thieme,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter and Kerry,
Toni Rubio,
Aloha Tigers,
Amazonics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
Amon Düül,
Tres Demented,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-102,
Whodini,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grey Daturas,
Cluster,
Supertramp,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sarah Menescal,
Rekid,
Magazine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fluxion,
Bootsy Collins,
Sex Pistols,
PIL,
Aswad,
DNA,
Joe Finger,
EPMD,
Harmonia,
The Techniques,
Johnny Osbourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.