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 Albania and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 X-101 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens 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 grime 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 a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
The Neon Judgement,
Mark Hollis,
Kayak,
Bootsy Collins,
Pierre Henry,
the Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Little Man,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moby Grape,
Cybotron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nick Fraelich,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fire Engines,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
The Selecter,
The Pretty Things,
The Music Machine,
Gong,
Lyres,
The Mojo Men,
The Young Rascals,
Newcleus,
The Index,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
Popol Vuh,
Camberwell Now,
K-Klass,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Starr,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mo-Dettes,
Moebius,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fugazi,
Althea and Donna,
The Gories,
Stereo Dub,
The Fugs,
Wire,
Roger Hodgson,
Royal Trux,
John Cale,
The Alarm Clocks,
Darondo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultravox,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
The Motions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.