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 Somalia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cymande to the jazz 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Camouflage,
Davy DMX,
Sparks,
Country Teasers,
Visage,
Cluster,
Bob Dylan,
Toni Rubio,
The Knickerbockers,
Gong,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yazoo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Motions,
Rapeman,
R.M.O.,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sound Behaviour,
Amazonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Excepter,
Lungfish,
Freddie Wadling,
Y Pants,
Newcleus,
Leonard Cohen,
Zapp,
Urselle,
Quantec,
Altered Images,
The Trojans,
10cc,
U.S. Maple,
Organ,
The Searchers,
Derrick May,
The Count Five,
Eve St. Jones,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Bill Wells,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Accadde A,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aural Exciters,
KRS-One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
Rod Modell,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joensuu 1685,
Moss Icon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
Circle Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Cale,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.