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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Henry Cow to the grime 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
UT,
The Dave Clark Five,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
World's Most,
The Wake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantytec,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
The Red Krayola,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang On A Can,
The Count Five,
Funky Four + One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
OOIOO,
Dave Gahan,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerri Chandler,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Litter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Technova,
Mr. Review,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rosa Yemen,
Young Marble Giants,
cv313,
Tommy Roe,
The Mojo Men,
Public Enemy,
Cymande,
The Gories,
The Victims,
Infiniti,
PIL,
Saccharine Trust,
Parry Music,
The Selecter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nirvana,
Ultra Naté,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moebius,
Warren Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Tres Demented,
The Happenings,
Bush Tetras,
48th St. Collective,
Deakin,
The Techniques,
The Skatalites,
Radio Birdman,
Vladislav Delay,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.