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 Senegal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
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 clarinet 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 Tubeway Army to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Angry Samoans,
The Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Dead Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
Babytalk,
The Searchers,
AZ,
Depeche Mode,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pere Ubu,
Peter and Kerry,
the Swans,
The Golliwogs,
Lucky Dragons,
The Young Rascals,
Terry Callier,
Smog,
Sun City Girls,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Adolescents,
Joyce Sims,
Michelle Simonal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David McCallum,
Gang Green,
Laurel Aitken,
Massinfluence,
June Days,
Nico,
Lalann,
Nirvana,
Maleditus Sound,
EPMD,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bob Dylan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blake Baxter,
Rekid,
Lightning Bolt,
Donald Byrd,
LL Cool J,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Half Japanese,
Qualms,
Von Mondo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Axelrod,
Japan,
The Velvet Underground,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Foxx,
Marmalade,
Public Enemy,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.