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 Tanzania and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
B.T. Express,
Jerry's Kids,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Near,
Chris Corsano,
New Order,
Bobby Womack,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Severed Heads,
EPMD,
Jeff Mills,
Black Moon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Warsaw,
Das Ding,
The Trojans,
Absolute Body Control,
Second Layer,
Laurel Aitken,
Minny Pops,
Half Japanese,
Archie Shepp,
The Durutti Column,
Simply Red,
Ice-T,
Robert Görl,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Model 500,
Symarip,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terry Callier,
Dawn Penn,
The Real Kids,
Inner City,
Skaos,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ponytail,
LL Cool J,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joy Division,
Rufus Thomas,
Gabor Szabo,
Delta 5,
Bronski Beat,
E-Dancer,
Sex Pistols,
Nas,
Anakelly,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mr. Review,
Man Parrish,
Altered Images,
Vainqueur,
U.S. Maple,
David Bowie,
The Music Machine,
ABBA,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sonics,
World's Most,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.