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 Kiribati and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nick Fraelich to the jazz 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DNA,
Oblivians,
New Order,
The Gories,
Hot Snakes,
Metal Thangz,
cv313,
kango's stein massive,
Slave,
Jerry's Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
Stereo Dub,
Duran Duran,
The Invisible,
Ludus,
The Black Dice,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pierre Henry,
New York Dolls,
The Moody Blues,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
Dave Gahan,
Camberwell Now,
Buzzcocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Ronnie Foster,
UT,
The Misunderstood,
Terry Callier,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ponytail,
Letta Mbulu,
Mission of Burma,
Inner City,
The Electric Prunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barrington Levy,
The Angels of Light,
Bob Dylan,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Teasers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-101,
Kaleidoscope,
Visage,
Sound Behaviour,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Residents,
Minutemen,
Kenny Larkin,
These Immortal Souls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blossom Toes,
Zapp,
Roxette,
Reuben Wilson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.