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 Australia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 Max Romeo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Second Layer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Minor Threat,
Siglo XX,
Laurel Aitken,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Aural Exciters,
Ronnie Foster,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
Chrome,
Howard Jones,
Wasted Youth,
Barrington Levy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cure,
Easy Going,
Yusef Lateef,
Gichy Dan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
Bootsy Collins,
Wings,
Gang Green,
Blake Baxter,
Lightning Bolt,
Heaven 17,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
Television Personalities,
Blancmange,
Dawn Penn,
Moby Grape,
Scion,
Ronan,
Black Flag,
Suicide,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Q65,
Frankie Knuckles,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amazonics,
The Sonics,
Brick,
The Neon Judgement,
Vainqueur,
Visage,
Rosa Yemen,
Deakin,
Hardrive,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.