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 South Africa and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Camouflage to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
In Retrospect,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
H. Thieme,
Essential Logic,
B.T. Express,
Stiv Bators,
Bootsy Collins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lungfish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harpers Bizarre,
The J.B.'s,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Prunes,
MC5,
Nirvana,
Susan Cadogan,
Tomorrow,
Dennis Brown,
Johnny Clarke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Unwound,
Yazoo,
Alice Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
X-Ray Spex,
Arthur Verocai,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Martian,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Searchers,
Tears for Fears,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Associates,
Mad Mike,
Inner City,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Birthday Party,
Quando Quango,
Cheater Slicks,
Scientists,
Lakeside,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mantronix,
Henry Cow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tubeway Army,
Model 500,
Spandau Ballet,
The Barracudas,
The Move,
The Evens,
Brick,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül II,
Heaven 17,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.