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 Congo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Gong to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Swell Maps,
Marc Almond,
Mars,
Archie Shepp,
FM Einheit,
The Knickerbockers,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
Shoche,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minnie Riperton,
Wings,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yaz,
Bobby Sherman,
Warsaw,
Stiv Bators,
Black Pus,
Stetsasonic,
Yellowson,
Moebius,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
Ornette Coleman,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gichy Dan,
Q and Not U,
The New Christs,
Fad Gadget,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smoke,
Donald Byrd,
AZ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minny Pops,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sonics,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Absolute Body Control,
8 Eyed Spy,
Simply Red,
Faust,
Howard Jones,
Little Man,
Section 25,
Gabor Szabo,
Radiopuhelimet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun City Girls,
The Happenings,
The Doors,
Deakin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.