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 Macedonia 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tim Buckley to the grime 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Warsaw,
Tommy Roe,
Dark Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Youth Brigade,
World's Most,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vainqueur,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Negative Approach,
Audionom,
In Retrospect,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slackers,
Trumans Water,
Newcleus,
EPMD,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Clarke,
Swans,
The Fall,
Sight & Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Q and Not U,
The Beau Brummels,
June Days,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Martian,
Moebius,
Niagra,
Skarface,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joe Smooth,
Los Fastidios,
The Residents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monolake,
The Invisible,
Marc Almond,
Agent Orange,
Dead Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Faust,
Joey Negro,
The Slits,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gun Club,
Y Pants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Khruangbin,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Little Man,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.