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 Papua New Guinea and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 F. McDonald to the grunge 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
New Order,
Dead Boys,
Icehouse,
Prince Buster,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Red Krayola,
Ultra Naté,
John Holt,
John Foxx,
Suburban Knight,
Quantec,
Yusef Lateef,
The Techniques,
The Cosmic Jokers,
New York Dolls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Max Romeo,
Faust,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Human League,
Supertramp,
Radiohead,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June Days,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Near,
The Monochrome Set,
Leonard Cohen,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Halsall,
Monolake,
Yazoo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
MDC,
Avey Tare,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Misunderstood,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cramps,
Zero Boys,
Scrapy,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Association,
John Lydon,
Suicide,
Subhumans,
Johnny Clarke,
The Music Machine,
Black Sheep,
The Gun Club,
OOIOO,
Au Pairs,
The Standells,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grauzone,
Blancmange,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.