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 Australia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Flesh Eaters to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Alison Limerick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare,
Television Personalities,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott Heron,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Organ,
L. Decosne,
Henry Cow,
Maleditus Sound,
The Music Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
Wolf Eyes,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Dennis Brown,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Throbbing Gristle,
Average White Band,
Severed Heads,
Warsaw,
48th St. Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Visage,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DJ Style,
The Kinks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Underground Resistance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wasted Youth,
Negative Approach,
Chris & Cosey,
Deepchord,
Thee Headcoats,
Minor Threat,
Steve Hackett,
R.M.O.,
Howard Jones,
David Axelrod,
Lower 48,
Pole,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Smiths,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.