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 United Kingdom and from Glasgow.
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 Bremen and Lyon.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hoover to the disco 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gories,
Aswad,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Grass Roots,
Blancmange,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Animal Collective,
Lindisfarne,
Alton Ellis,
Saccharine Trust,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cymande,
48th St. Collective,
Josef K,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mr. Review,
The Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
The Cure,
Lalann,
Freddie Wadling,
The Last Poets,
Hashim,
Bobby Womack,
10cc,
Television Personalities,
Dark Day,
the Bar-Kays,
The Saints,
Harry Pussy,
Magazine,
B.T. Express,
The Cramps,
cv313,
The Human League,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rotary Connection,
Marc Almond,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispy Ambulance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Guru Guru,
Thompson Twins,
The Selecter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Martian,
The Wake,
Laurel Aitken,
Throbbing Gristle,
Funkadelic,
Heaven 17,
Can,
Mandrill,
The Kinks,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.