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 Armenia and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet 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 Massinfluence to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Scratch Acid,
Symarip,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ronnie Foster,
Unrelated Segments,
The Pop Group,
Roy Ayers,
Sandy B,
Arcadia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deadbeat,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Count Five,
Crime,
Roxy Music,
R.M.O.,
Marine Girls,
Flipper,
Sun Ra,
The Human League,
Blancmange,
Panda Bear,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donald Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swell Maps,
The Gories,
A Certain Ratio,
Slave,
Thee Headcoats,
Babytalk,
Max Romeo,
Unwound,
Audionom,
Ponytail,
Dennis Brown,
The Flesh Eaters,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
Quantec,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Victims,
the Soft Cell,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric Dolphy,
Al Stewart,
The Zeros,
The Five Americans,
Patti Smith,
Pylon,
Pierre Henry,
EPMD,
The Invisible,
Ohio Players,
Joe Finger,
Loose Ends,
The Angels of Light,
Piero Umiliani,
Shoche,
The Names,
Colin Newman,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.