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 Indonesia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Pagans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Essential Logic,
The Tremeloes,
Dawn Penn,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Germs,
Amon Düül II,
Brand Nubian,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wolf Eyes,
Lower 48,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Glenn Branca,
The Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Quando Quango,
Jerry's Kids,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Young Marble Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Loose Ends,
Urselle,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-102,
LL Cool J,
D'Angelo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Television Personalities,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Walker Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Man Parrish,
Spoonie Gee,
Crime,
Sex Pistols,
Gastr Del Sol,
Franke,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skaos,
Junior Murvin,
Intrusion,
Prince Buster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Morten Harket,
F. McDonald,
Pole,
The Star Department,
Rotary Connection,
Unrelated Segments,
Leonard Cohen,
Minny Pops,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Shuggie Otis,
Eddi Front,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.