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 Kuwait and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Throbbing Gristle to the funk 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Y Pants,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brand Nubian,
Stiv Bators,
The Zeros,
Duran Duran,
DNA,
The Martian,
Amon Düül II,
Toni Rubio,
Jeff Lynne,
Neu!,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joe Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
The Fuzztones,
L. Decosne,
Graham Central Station,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cowsills,
Cheater Slicks,
Bob Dylan,
Ken Boothe,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Steve Hackett,
Suburban Knight,
Main Source,
Severed Heads,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed,
Vladislav Delay,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fortunes,
The Searchers,
Q65,
Nik Kershaw,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Machine,
Boredoms,
Sixth Finger,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Moby Grape,
The Barracudas,
Eli Mardock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Section 25,
Warren Ellis,
The Busters,
Cluster,
Alton Ellis,
Sugar Minott,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.