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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tremeloes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Man Parrish,
Motorama,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yazoo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Suicide,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mummies,
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pulsallama,
Can,
Patti Smith,
Erasure,
Tim Buckley,
Sixth Finger,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxette,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gories,
Donny Hathaway,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
Leonard Cohen,
Q65,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
Joyce Sims,
FM Einheit,
Bootsy Collins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minnie Riperton,
The Electric Prunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
Talk Talk,
The Names,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Hood,
Blake Baxter,
Bauhaus,
The Smiths,
Hashim,
Sugar Minott,
Funky Four + One,
The Remains,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Terry,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.