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 Turkey and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deakin to the crunk 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Ultravox,
Charles Mingus,
Wire,
Ossler,
Eve St. Jones,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barry Ungar,
Terrestrial Tones,
Suburban Knight,
John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pylon,
The Tremeloes,
Infiniti,
Scan 7,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magazine,
Angry Samoans,
Ludus,
The Durutti Column,
Joey Negro,
Black Flag,
Marmalade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Popol Vuh,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Certain Ratio,
Iggy Pop,
Ronnie Foster,
Underground Resistance,
Organ,
Unrelated Segments,
Fear,
Half Japanese,
Quadrant,
Isaac Hayes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maurizio,
The Mojo Men,
Max Romeo,
Animal Collective,
The Victims,
Symarip,
Goldenarms,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fuzztones,
Porter Ricks,
MC5,
Lucky Dragons,
Niagra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crash Course in Science,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Average White Band,
Royal Trux,
Banda Bassotti,
Desert Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Görl,
Sun City Girls,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.