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 Czech Republic and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Marcia Griffiths to the grime 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Smoke,
Smog,
Arcadia,
The Pop Group,
Tropical Tobacco,
UT,
The Human League,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Slave,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pretty Things,
The Standells,
Anthony Braxton,
Blossom Toes,
Lucky Dragons,
X-102,
Tom Boy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lakeside,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Byrd,
Pole,
Oblivians,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Germs,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Davy DMX,
Jerry's Kids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Michelle Simonal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deadbeat,
Eric Copeland,
Sister Nancy,
Nick Fraelich,
Kaleidoscope,
Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
OOIOO,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
JFA,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers,
Sight & Sound,
Morten Harket,
Delta 5,
Yazoo,
The Real Kids,
The Cure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.