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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Barry Ungar to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Whodini,
Scientists,
Lucky Dragons,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Stiv Bators,
The Buckinghams,
Simply Red,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Alarm Clocks,
Albert Ayler,
Maleditus Sound,
Parry Music,
Funky Four + One,
Black Bananas,
a-ha,
The Fire Engines,
Liliput,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ohio Players,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultravox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
OOIOO,
Hardrive,
Juan Atkins,
Babytalk,
Duran Duran,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers,
Cybotron,
Severed Heads,
Sarah Menescal,
Funkadelic,
Swans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Flipper,
Television,
Jimmy McGriff,
Model 500,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Minor Threat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radio Birdman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Sonics,
Fatback Band,
The Cramps,
Andrew Hill,
Brick,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bill Near,
One Last Wish,
E-Dancer,
Traffic Nightmare,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.