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 Portugal and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ice-T to the punk 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Cameo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nirvana,
Scott Walker,
The Smiths,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minutemen,
Nico,
Laurel Aitken,
The Wake,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
The Buckinghams,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
the Soft Cell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Siglo XX,
The Slackers,
Ultravox,
Blossom Toes,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
Sun City Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Aaron Thompson,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
Amon Düül II,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
X-101,
Joe Smooth,
Eric Copeland,
Spandau Ballet,
the Bar-Kays,
Freddie Wadling,
Fat Boys,
The Sonics,
The Cowsills,
The Names,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kool Moe Dee,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Royal Trux,
T. Rex,
Junior Murvin,
Mad Mike,
Josef K,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moss Icon,
Japan,
Ludus,
Cal Tjader,
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alphaville,
Skarface,
Gong,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.