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 Liechtenstein and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Stooges to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Morten Harket,
Mad Mike,
Depeche Mode,
Black Bananas,
La Düsseldorf,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Khruangbin,
Inner City,
Lindisfarne,
The Stooges,
Gichy Dan,
The Dead C,
Carl Craig,
Blake Baxter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
In Retrospect,
Joe Finger,
The Raincoats,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bill Near,
Camberwell Now,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Camouflage,
Thee Headcoats,
the Sonics,
The Gories,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
H. Thieme,
Eli Mardock,
Q and Not U,
Alison Limerick,
Lalann,
Tubeway Army,
Minor Threat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Radio Birdman,
UT,
The Offenders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
Simply Red,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
Drexciya,
The Cowsills,
the Fania All-Stars,
Main Source,
The Techniques,
ABBA,
Sam Rivers,
Audionom,
Rotary Connection,
Patti Smith,
Quando Quango,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.