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 Antigua and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
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 marimba 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 Fugazi to the punk 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Toni Rubio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Standells,
Bang On A Can,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moby Grape,
UT,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Intrusion,
Theoretical Girls,
T. Rex,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
Los Fastidios,
Bill Wells,
Supertramp,
Danielle Patucci,
Ornette Coleman,
The Neon Judgement,
F. McDonald,
Alison Limerick,
Symarip,
Chris & Cosey,
DJ Sneak,
Spoonie Gee,
Soulsonic Force,
Maurizio,
The Tremeloes,
Vainqueur,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Funky Four + One,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stereo Dub,
Erykah Badu,
Motorama,
John Foxx,
Isaac Hayes,
Visage,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
D'Angelo,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
X-Ray Spex,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ituana,
Depeche Mode,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Smog,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Scion,
Dave Gahan,
New Order,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.