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 Dominica and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the jazz 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Los Fastidios,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Juan Atkins,
The Velvet Underground,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
Zero Boys,
The Moleskins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Heaven 17,
Excepter,
Slave,
Visage,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sound Behaviour,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Procol Harum,
Gang Starr,
Terry Callier,
Audionom,
Depeche Mode,
X-102,
Neil Young,
Nils Olav,
Lungfish,
The Golliwogs,
The New Christs,
Television Personalities,
Rhythm & Sound,
One Last Wish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ronan,
The Cowsills,
Mr. Review,
Bizarre Inc.,
DJ Style,
Ohio Players,
Alphaville,
Khruangbin,
Tubeway Army,
New York Dolls,
Shoche,
X-101,
Sun Ra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
June of 44,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy Collins,
F. McDonald,
Junior Murvin,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.