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 Congo and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Icehouse,
Alphaville,
Althea and Donna,
Bob Dylan,
Theoretical Girls,
The Count Five,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
Tubeway Army,
Unrelated Segments,
Scion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
Ludus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dennis Brown,
The Residents,
The Moleskins,
Aaron Thompson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen,
Suburban Knight,
F. McDonald,
Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James White and The Blacks,
Amazonics,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Hood,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lalann,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Magma,
Jeff Mills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blake Baxter,
Swans,
Nas,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick May,
Crooked Eye,
John Coltrane,
The Vogues,
Junior Murvin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brass Construction,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bauhaus,
Darondo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.