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 Czech Republic and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Franke to the crunk 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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Minor Threat,
Lightning Bolt,
T.S.O.L.,
AZ,
Hot Snakes,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gun Club,
Tres Demented,
Arcadia,
The Doors,
Qualms,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Basic Channel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Toasters,
Urselle,
Mars,
Freddie Wadling,
Gabor Szabo,
Quantec,
Interpol,
The Fugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Glenn Branca,
Magma,
Harry Pussy,
The Monochrome Set,
Visage,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Slackers,
Au Pairs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alice Coltrane,
Steve Hackett,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Robert Hood,
John Holt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Motions,
The Divine Comedy,
Faraquet,
Quadrant,
Average White Band,
The Cure,
The Walker Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
The Gladiators,
Wally Richardson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Iggy Pop,
Mr. Review,
The Cramps,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.