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 Uganda and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
David McCallum,
H. Thieme,
The Slits,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Idris Muhammad,
Eve St. Jones,
Ituana,
Harry Pussy,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
Crash Course in Science,
The Five Americans,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Delta 5,
The Evens,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang of Four,
Susan Cadogan,
cv313,
Visage,
Nils Olav,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
Quando Quango,
Scion,
Franke,
MDC,
Y Pants,
Cluster,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Clarke,
Joe Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slave,
Buzzcocks,
Black Pus,
Underground Resistance,
E-Dancer,
The Fuzztones,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
The Young Rascals,
Gastr Del Sol,
Easy Going,
The Star Department,
John Coltrane,
Yaz,
Donald Byrd,
Dark Day,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Bananas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Magma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Offenders,
Fear,
Second Layer,
June of 44,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.