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 Cambodia and from Mexico City.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cybotron to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Subhumans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
Radiohead,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers,
Wolf Eyes,
Delta 5,
T. Rex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ten City,
The Move,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Toasters,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Hood,
Sugar Minott,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Offenders,
Warren Ellis,
Swell Maps,
Kerrie Biddell,
Amon Düül,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Talk Talk,
Marvin Gaye,
Todd Rundgren,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Susan Cadogan,
Joey Negro,
Andrew Hill,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Five Americans,
Pussy Galore,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Names,
Royal Trux,
Pagans,
The Vogues,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harmonia,
Interpol,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suburban Knight,
Bang On A Can,
Lyres,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mojo Men,
Gang of Four,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.