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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Harry Pussy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
U.S. Maple,
Nick Fraelich,
Moebius,
Livin' Joy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
cv313,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
Derrick Morgan,
Royal Trux,
The Fuzztones,
The Cure,
Underground Resistance,
Wire,
Max Romeo,
Steve Hackett,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chrome,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Matthew Halsall,
Curtis Mayfield,
Morten Harket,
Boredoms,
Los Fastidios,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Archie Shepp,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
The Moleskins,
Agent Orange,
Angry Samoans,
Nico,
Crime,
Nation of Ulysses,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Parrish,
Cal Tjader,
Delta 5,
The Fall,
The Pretty Things,
Urselle,
Black Pus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
B.T. Express,
Gong,
Ultra Naté,
The Velvet Underground,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Reed,
the Germs,
Pussy Galore,
Janne Schatter,
Rod Modell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lyres,
The Motions,
The Misunderstood,
Ludus,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.