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 Vietnam and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kerrie Biddell to the dance 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Crispy Ambulance,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cowsills,
X-101,
The Busters,
Alphaville,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Archie Shepp,
Franke,
X-Ray Spex,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Green,
Index,
The Fugs,
Robert Hood,
Brothers Johnson,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Starr,
Mary Jane Girls,
Drexciya,
Swell Maps,
Tears for Fears,
Parry Music,
Alison Limerick,
Toni Rubio,
Fat Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Circle Jerks,
The New Christs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter & Gordon,
Yellowson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Matthew Bourne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aaron Thompson,
MC5,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vladislav Delay,
Soulsonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
Hardrive,
Livin' Joy,
The Misunderstood,
Nirvana,
Marc Almond,
James White and The Blacks,
Pylon,
The Associates,
Duran Duran,
The Birthday Party,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.