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 Jordan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Subhumans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ponytail,
Intrusion,
Los Fastidios,
Marc Almond,
Public Enemy,
The Tremeloes,
the Swans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cheater Slicks,
Aswad,
The Human League,
Siglo XX,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
The Evens,
Barry Ungar,
cv313,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
Pagans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
Matthew Halsall,
Bang On A Can,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy Collins,
Max Romeo,
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Style,
Aural Exciters,
Sun City Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tim Buckley,
Outsiders,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soul II Soul,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Easy Going,
UT,
Cameo,
Electric Prunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Black Dice,
Blancmange,
Archie Shepp,
Delta 5,
Bill Near,
Youth Brigade,
The Gap Band,
The Cramps,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fat Boys,
The Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Scratch Acid,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.