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 Belarus and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Youth Brigade 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
K-Klass,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Kinks,
Tres Demented,
David Axelrod,
Skaos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spandau Ballet,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
Ronan,
Lakeside,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Isaac Hayes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
World's Most,
kango's stein massive,
Excepter,
Carl Craig,
Jacques Brel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
E-Dancer,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quantec,
D'Angelo,
China Crisis,
Camouflage,
The Gladiators,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Enemy,
The Standells,
Brick,
the Sonics,
Das Ding,
Warren Ellis,
Morten Harket,
DJ Sneak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
Duran Duran,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scientists,
Royal Trux,
The American Breed,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Slits,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.