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 Guatemala and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Toasters,
The Misunderstood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ken Boothe,
The Zeros,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hardrive,
The Cramps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
kango's stein massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Amazonics,
The Cowsills,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang of Four,
Glenn Branca,
Morten Harket,
10cc,
La Düsseldorf,
Rosa Yemen,
Gabor Szabo,
Swans,
JFA,
Stiv Bators,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Görl,
Joyce Sims,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moby Grape,
Heaven 17,
Ultravox,
Marmalade,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Piero Umiliani,
the Association,
Depeche Mode,
Ludus,
Negative Approach,
The Techniques,
The Beau Brummels,
Radiohead,
John Lydon,
Chris & Cosey,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aural Exciters,
Japan,
Agent Orange,
The Raincoats,
Juan Atkins,
Absolute Body Control,
The Durutti Column,
ABC,
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.