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 Sri Lanka and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Howard Jones to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Maurizio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terry Callier,
U.S. Maple,
The Offenders,
Hasil Adkins,
Johnny Clarke,
The Raincoats,
Pere Ubu,
Cecil Taylor,
Smog,
the Slits,
Schoolly D,
The Cure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Easy Going,
Kool Moe Dee,
Desert Stars,
The Wake,
AZ,
Joe Smooth,
The Neon Judgement,
Whodini,
Lalo Schifrin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erasure,
Blancmange,
Neil Young,
Rod Modell,
Shoche,
Swans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Young Marble Giants,
The Happenings,
Hoover,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Yellowson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
James White and The Blacks,
Archie Shepp,
Basic Channel,
Eve St. Jones,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Magma,
Fat Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nirvana,
Barbara Tucker,
June of 44,
Derrick Morgan,
Hashim,
Joyce Sims,
Spandau Ballet,
Make Up,
Q65,
Alphaville,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.