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 Equatorial Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 The Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
JFA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Organ,
David Axelrod,
LL Cool J,
the Slits,
Amazonics,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül II,
Monolake,
The Slits,
The Moody Blues,
Hoover,
The Searchers,
Piero Umiliani,
Roxette,
Lakeside,
Lungfish,
Accadde A,
Lucky Dragons,
Darondo,
Supertramp,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed,
Eric Dolphy,
MC5,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
Los Fastidios,
Ohio Players,
Audionom,
Essential Logic,
Qualms,
Yazoo,
Bad Manners,
Massinfluence,
Visage,
MDC,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash,
Unwound,
Shoche,
Warren Ellis,
Morten Harket,
Zapp,
Barry Ungar,
Tres Demented,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Anakelly,
Reuben Wilson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.