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 Syria and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the dance 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Connie Case,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Neu!,
Nick Fraelich,
Theoretical Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Essential Logic,
Pulsallama,
T. Rex,
Bill Near,
Country Teasers,
Dark Day,
Cal Tjader,
Talk Talk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Starr,
Niagra,
Ultra Naté,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Flag,
The Smoke,
Ten City,
Hoover,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ituana,
The Cowsills,
Howard Jones,
The Grass Roots,
Joy Division,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Robert Hood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pantaleimon,
Amon Düül II,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barrington Levy,
Pole,
Camberwell Now,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Monks,
The Motions,
These Immortal Souls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Bourne,
June Days,
Rosa Yemen,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Trumans Water,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.