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 Brazil and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Scrapy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Detroit Cobras,
Steve Hackett,
Franke,
Barrington Levy,
Warsaw,
Angry Samoans,
Alice Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Parry Music,
Sugar Minott,
Pulsallama,
Black Flag,
Newcleus,
U.S. Maple,
Stetsasonic,
Glenn Branca,
Zapp,
Gang Green,
The Gories,
Y Pants,
Crooked Eye,
Circle Jerks,
Amazonics,
Graham Central Station,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Don Cherry,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Axelrod,
Todd Rundgren,
Khruangbin,
June of 44,
The Beau Brummels,
Vainqueur,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
R.M.O.,
Magma,
The Gladiators,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eddi Front,
The Smoke,
Bootsy Collins,
Gregory Isaacs,
E-Dancer,
Tommy Roe,
Quando Quango,
Man Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Alphaville,
The Cramps,
Urselle,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
AZ,
The Neon Judgement,
Nick Fraelich,
Das Ding,
Panda Bear,
Idris Muhammad,
Masters at Work,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.