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 Belgium and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 In Retrospect to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fugs,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
James White and The Blacks,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül II,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amon Düül,
Johnny Clarke,
Banda Bassotti,
Davy DMX,
The Fortunes,
Malaria!,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scion,
Charles Mingus,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
Joyce Sims,
Gichy Dan,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Soft Cell,
Hot Snakes,
The Busters,
Scratch Acid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
One Last Wish,
John Cale,
The Index,
Sparks,
The Durutti Column,
The Offenders,
Crime,
Parry Music,
Grey Daturas,
Joe Finger,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television Personalities,
MC5,
Yellowson,
Warsaw,
The Standells,
Pierre Henry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Bananas,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
ABC,
Barry Ungar,
Matthew Bourne,
Inner City,
The Modern Lovers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Moody Blues,
Make Up,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.