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 Italy and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 OOIOO to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
the Germs,
Inner City,
Prince Buster,
The Golliwogs,
Sonic Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Don Cherry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
Idris Muhammad,
The Index,
Kool Moe Dee,
LL Cool J,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
Con Funk Shun,
The Skatalites,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Buckinghams,
David Axelrod,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Angels of Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yellowson,
Zero Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Todd Terry,
Grauzone,
Joy Division,
Fear,
Lungfish,
Robert Hood,
Blake Baxter,
Skarface,
Moss Icon,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dirtbombs,
Lakeside,
the Association,
Max Romeo,
Terry Callier,
Index,
The Fire Engines,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wire,
Simply Red,
The Happenings,
Mary Jane Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
The Divine Comedy,
Bang On A Can,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.