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 Kosovo and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang of Four,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Mandrill,
Andrew Hill,
Easy Going,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Moon,
Severed Heads,
Lou Christie,
Joensuu 1685,
Cameo,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scientists,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Star Department,
Nas,
Junior Murvin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Görl,
The Offenders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Kinks,
E-Dancer,
Howard Jones,
The Wake,
The Shadows of Knight,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
China Crisis,
L. Decosne,
Yusef Lateef,
The Motions,
Icehouse,
The Seeds,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
Mantronix,
Frankie Knuckles,
Visage,
The Standells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Index,
Skriet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.