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 San Marino and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 This Heat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Susan Cadogan,
The Skatalites,
Faust,
Man Eating Sloth,
These Immortal Souls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lalann,
Wings,
Stiv Bators,
Sugar Minott,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
Godley & Creme,
Black Pus,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Zeros,
Grauzone,
Neil Young,
Minny Pops,
Pantaleimon,
Los Fastidios,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bauhaus,
Suicide,
The Golliwogs,
The Saints,
KRS-One,
Desert Stars,
Funky Four + One,
Magazine,
Reagan Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scrapy,
Camouflage,
Amon Düül,
Magma,
Simply Red,
Aswad,
Sixth Finger,
Max Romeo,
The Stooges,
The Toasters,
Scientists,
Fluxion,
Lou Christie,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gun Club,
Ossler,
Black Moon,
Blake Baxter,
The Martian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June Days,
Ken Boothe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.