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 Austria and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
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 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 Tom Verlaine 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 John Holt to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Flipper,
Soft Cell,
Josef K,
Amon Düül II,
Average White Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Germs,
Max Romeo,
Barry Ungar,
The Smiths,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mummies,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
Radiopuhelimet,
Howard Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Gichy Dan,
Saccharine Trust,
Pylon,
Khruangbin,
Ludus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mars,
Maleditus Sound,
K-Klass,
Sällskapet,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultra Naté,
Alphaville,
Y Pants,
Idris Muhammad,
Stereo Dub,
Inner City,
Au Pairs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brass Construction,
Bauhaus,
OOIOO,
Vladislav Delay,
Crash Course in Science,
Hoover,
Model 500,
Quando Quango,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cymande,
Grauzone,
Gong,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
Unwound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Blake Baxter,
Little Man,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.