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 Mongolia and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the grunge 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Fad Gadget,
Black Moon,
Motorama,
The Durutti Column,
the Normal,
Gastr Del Sol,
Altered Images,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cal Tjader,
Popol Vuh,
Tim Buckley,
Subhumans,
The Human League,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deadbeat,
Severed Heads,
Lindisfarne,
Can,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bad Manners,
The Wake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Circle Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Christie,
Minny Pops,
Warren Ellis,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fuzztones,
Nils Olav,
Warsaw,
Cluster,
The Tremeloes,
Kenny Larkin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Skaos,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiohead,
Rotary Connection,
The Busters,
Malaria!,
The Stooges,
Pagans,
John Holt,
Deepchord,
Babytalk,
Mark Hollis,
OOIOO,
New Age Steppers,
Barry Ungar,
Blake Baxter,
Pantytec,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mars,
Prince Buster,
The Golliwogs,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.