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 Marshall Islands and from Jakarta.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 UT to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marmalade,
K-Klass,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Swans,
The Gladiators,
Ken Boothe,
Ultravox,
The Count Five,
Wings,
X-Ray Spex,
Roxy Music,
X-101,
Oneida,
Lebanon Hanover,
David Bowie,
Sarah Menescal,
Colin Newman,
Simply Red,
Das Ding,
The Pretty Things,
Flipper,
Eric Copeland,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Detroit Cobras,
E-Dancer,
Black Bananas,
Excepter,
Pantaleimon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jacob Miller,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Suicide,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Johnny Osbourne,
R.M.O.,
The Trojans,
Marvin Gaye,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New York Dolls,
Adolescents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Panda Bear,
June of 44,
Cymande,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Beau Brummels,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hoover,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers,
the Normal,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brand Nubian,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.