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 Taiwan and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mo-Dettes to the rap 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Technova,
ABC,
Bluetip,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
DJ Style,
AZ,
Royal Trux,
Gang Green,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Anthony Braxton,
The Saints,
Marshall Jefferson,
June of 44,
Quando Quango,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scott Walker,
Robert Görl,
T. Rex,
Brass Construction,
The Searchers,
Robert Hood,
The Blues Magoos,
Jimmy McGriff,
Swans,
Accadde A,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Parry Music,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cramps,
Lightning Bolt,
Pere Ubu,
Rapeman,
Pussy Galore,
Zapp,
The Blackbyrds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
The Young Rascals,
the Germs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hoover,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Red Krayola,
Alison Limerick,
The Beau Brummels,
Magazine,
Josef K,
Outsiders,
Jandek,
Ice-T,
the Swans,
The Neon Judgement,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.