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 Rwanda and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rufus Thomas to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Shuggie Otis,
Liliput,
Guru Guru,
Sister Nancy,
U.S. Maple,
Dawn Penn,
John Holt,
Steve Hackett,
Ten City,
L. Decosne,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rites of Spring,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Main Source,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Last Poets,
The Tremeloes,
Wolf Eyes,
John Lydon,
Radio Birdman,
The United States of America,
Nik Kershaw,
Fatback Band,
Ronnie Foster,
the Sonics,
Echospace,
Robert Hood,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deepchord,
Rekid,
Oblivians,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sex Pistols,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Desert Stars,
The Moleskins,
Gang Starr,
Magazine,
The Cure,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ituana,
Scrapy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Lower 48,
Albert Ayler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultra Naté,
Yaz,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
Lyres,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.