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 Mauritius and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the grunge 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Rekid,
The Remains,
The Mummies,
Joe Finger,
Unwound,
R.M.O.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bauhaus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brass Construction,
Lindisfarne,
Funky Four + One,
Niagra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monolake,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
Sex Pistols,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Prince Buster,
Byron Stingily,
Altered Images,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Popol Vuh,
The Barracudas,
Rotary Connection,
Wings,
Skarface,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Public Enemy,
The Gun Club,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cameo,
Ossler,
Davy DMX,
Ponytail,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Qualms,
Dual Sessions,
A Certain Ratio,
John Foxx,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Duran Duran,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
The Vogues,
John Cale,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Young Rascals,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Little Man,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lucky Dragons,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.