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 Gambia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New Christs to the rock 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scan 7,
Flipper,
Camberwell Now,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cluster,
Porter Ricks,
Qualms,
China Crisis,
Saccharine Trust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Malaria!,
Con Funk Shun,
Ossler,
John Coltrane,
Blancmange,
Grey Daturas,
Nas,
B.T. Express,
Connie Case,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Index,
L. Decosne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jandek,
Lucky Dragons,
The New Christs,
Roy Ayers,
The Young Rascals,
Massinfluence,
Wolf Eyes,
Mr. Review,
The Cure,
Erasure,
Ten City,
Graham Central Station,
Jacob Miller,
Magazine,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Christie,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
The Selecter,
Whodini,
Ultravox,
Half Japanese,
Pere Ubu,
Hardrive,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Toasters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Clear Light,
Black Flag,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.