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 Argentina and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 The Electric Prunes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Arthur Verocai,
Charles Mingus,
Wire,
Joensuu 1685,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barrington Levy,
Nico,
The Monks,
The Doors,
The American Breed,
Drexciya,
Donny Hathaway,
Deakin,
Bush Tetras,
The Slits,
Duran Duran,
Pulsallama,
The Vogues,
The Litter,
Wolf Eyes,
Glenn Branca,
Little Man,
Kaleidoscope,
Albert Ayler,
Panda Bear,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lakeside,
Dark Day,
Mars,
Warren Ellis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sarah Menescal,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Lalann,
Lou Reed,
Moby Grape,
AZ,
The Busters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neil Young,
Slick Rick,
Faust,
Absolute Body Control,
Wasted Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Bob Dylan,
Sister Nancy,
Darondo,
Yellowson,
Gong,
The Raincoats,
OOIOO,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Surgeon,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.