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 Montenegro and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Robert Palmer 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Amazonics,
Reuben Wilson,
Moebius,
Tommy Roe,
Dead Boys,
Patti Smith,
Dual Sessions,
The Invisible,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Warsaw,
Model 500,
Robert Hood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stetsasonic,
Smog,
Scratch Acid,
Oblivians,
the Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Altered Images,
the Bar-Kays,
The Stooges,
Blossom Toes,
Bootsy Collins,
Slave,
Liliput,
Clear Light,
Livin' Joy,
Magazine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dave Gahan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
H. Thieme,
Roxy Music,
Nils Olav,
Carl Craig,
The Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Zeros,
Jeff Mills,
Simply Red,
The Searchers,
Kurtis Blow,
Pantytec,
Idris Muhammad,
X-102,
Black Bananas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deadbeat,
Chrome,
Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
LL Cool J,
Wasted Youth,
a-ha,
Interpol,
Lou Christie,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.