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 Costa Rica and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 The Remains to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers 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?
Gabor Szabo,
Thee Headcoats,
John Lydon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Spandau Ballet,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minny Pops,
Public Enemy,
Darondo,
The Saints,
Lindisfarne,
The Smiths,
Ten City,
Nik Kershaw,
Byron Stingily,
Gang of Four,
Fluxion,
Suicide,
DJ Sneak,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Blackbyrds,
The Monochrome Set,
The Stooges,
Eurythmics,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Star Department,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
D'Angelo,
The Fugs,
Bad Manners,
Don Cherry,
Erasure,
Cluster,
Masters at Work,
Little Man,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Near,
Ultravox,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lakeside,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reagan Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Magma,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Glenn Branca,
Oneida,
ABBA,
Dennis Brown,
Joy Division,
Suburban Knight,
kango's stein massive,
The United States of America,
Swans,
AZ,
Fatback Band,
Deakin,
Marmalade,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.