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 Germany and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gun Club 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Eve St. Jones,
Faust,
The Selecter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
Main Source,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Can,
The Vogues,
Make Up,
Drexciya,
Black Pus,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Stereo Dub,
Duran Duran,
Boredoms,
Gichy Dan,
Whodini,
The Misunderstood,
Aural Exciters,
MDC,
Jacob Miller,
Warren Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
Television Personalities,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fatback Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Fela Kuti,
The Mummies,
Mary Jane Girls,
D'Angelo,
FM Einheit,
Dave Gahan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blues Magoos,
Mark Hollis,
Nas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Monks,
The Slits,
Isaac Hayes,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
H. Thieme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barbara Tucker,
Joyce Sims,
ABC,
The Remains,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
Agent Orange,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.