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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
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 Calgary and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Idris Muhammad to the techno 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Quantec,
Joensuu 1685,
Wolf Eyes,
Rotary Connection,
The Star Department,
Ice-T,
Ultravox,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echospace,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Popol Vuh,
Dual Sessions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scan 7,
The Martian,
Newcleus,
Lalann,
The Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
Subhumans,
Buzzcocks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Babytalk,
Mars,
T.S.O.L.,
Marc Almond,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Zeros,
Massinfluence,
The J.B.'s,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kenny Larkin,
Monks,
The Toasters,
Cluster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Hood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Infiniti,
Roxette,
The Divine Comedy,
Stetsasonic,
a-ha,
One Last Wish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minutemen,
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.