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 Turkmenistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 World's Most to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Rundgren,
These Immortal Souls,
Infiniti,
James White and The Blacks,
Piero Umiliani,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Stooges,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drexciya,
EPMD,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Blackbyrds,
Qualms,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mojo Men,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
X-101,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rites of Spring,
Stetsasonic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
The Saints,
Franke,
Crime,
Magazine,
Derrick Morgan,
Camouflage,
Stereo Dub,
Agent Orange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Steve Hackett,
Carl Craig,
Minny Pops,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The American Breed,
Echospace,
Erykah Badu,
Dual Sessions,
Guru Guru,
cv313,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Al Stewart,
Isaac Hayes,
Pantytec,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yaz,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.