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 Ukraine and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
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 organ 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 Fela Kuti to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Shoche,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Motorama,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
DNA,
Wally Richardson,
Neu!,
the Human League,
Sandy B,
Robert Hood,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
Ice-T,
The J.B.'s,
Roxy Music,
Mark Hollis,
Susan Cadogan,
Janne Schatter,
Rakim,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
Sällskapet,
MDC,
The New Christs,
Essential Logic,
Popol Vuh,
Jeff Mills,
Lalann,
The Modern Lovers,
Cal Tjader,
The Detroit Cobras,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stiv Bators,
Byron Stingily,
MC5,
Livin' Joy,
Suburban Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
Banda Bassotti,
JFA,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-101,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Kinks,
Icehouse,
Monolake,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minutemen,
The Move,
Warsaw,
Dual Sessions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Skarface,
Organ,
One Last Wish,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.