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 Guyana and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Holger Czukay 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 B.T. Express to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
The Cowsills,
Nirvana,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fat Boys,
The Real Kids,
Lakeside,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang Green,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sugar Minott,
Animal Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Stetsasonic,
Heaven 17,
Chris Corsano,
PIL,
Faust,
Das Ding,
Amazonics,
JFA,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Christie,
Intrusion,
The Moleskins,
The Black Dice,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Holt,
Spoonie Gee,
Fluxion,
Main Source,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Theoretical Girls,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
cv313,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Q and Not U,
The Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vainqueur,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amon Düül,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marine Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Trumans Water,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Association,
Peter and Kerry,
X-Ray Spex,
Anthony Braxton,
T.S.O.L.,
June of 44,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.