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 South Africa and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Silicon Teens to the disco 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
T. Rex,
Average White Band,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angry Samoans,
The Names,
Mr. Review,
Dorothy Ashby,
The J.B.'s,
Kaleidoscope,
The Five Americans,
Gong,
Q65,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
June Days,
a-ha,
The Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radiopuhelimet,
Popol Vuh,
Au Pairs,
The Raincoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Quadrant,
Bill Wells,
Brand Nubian,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lungfish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eddi Front,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harmonia,
Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
Soul Sonic Force,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tears for Fears,
Idris Muhammad,
Sonic Youth,
Faraquet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monks,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül II,
Intrusion,
Laurel Aitken,
Joyce Sims,
Mission of Burma,
Dave Gahan,
The Cure,
FM Einheit,
The Durutti Column,
Yusef Lateef,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brass Construction,
Marmalade,
Sparks,
Lightning Bolt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.