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 Switzerland and from Portland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blancmange to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
PIL,
Cybotron,
Cecil Taylor,
Brass Construction,
Flipper,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Sheep,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Invisible,
Michelle Simonal,
Isaac Hayes,
Blake Baxter,
FM Einheit,
The Victims,
Trumans Water,
Model 500,
Howard Jones,
Pole,
James White and The Blacks,
Infiniti,
Tom Boy,
Anthony Braxton,
Henry Cow,
The Gories,
Susan Cadogan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cramps,
Smog,
X-101,
Dead Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Das Ding,
Wally Richardson,
Newcleus,
The Leaves,
These Immortal Souls,
The Martian,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
LL Cool J,
Nico,
The Associates,
Index,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Charles Mingus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jandek,
The Evens,
Lebanon Hanover,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Livin' Joy,
OOIOO,
The Five Americans,
Godley & Creme,
Grey Daturas,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.