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 Burkina and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pulsallama to the funk 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mr. Review,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pere Ubu,
Eddi Front,
Hardrive,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Holt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Subhumans,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Searchers,
Goldenarms,
Alice Coltrane,
Nico,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare,
New York Dolls,
Lucky Dragons,
The Busters,
Motorama,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Laurel Aitken,
Neu!,
Glenn Branca,
Main Source,
Albert Ayler,
The Birthday Party,
Echospace,
Ohio Players,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Niagra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mojo Men,
Leonard Cohen,
The Misunderstood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Kerrie Biddell,
Loose Ends,
Bill Near,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roxette,
The Seeds,
Japan,
The Victims,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Vogues,
Curtis Mayfield,
Swans,
The Cure,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.