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 Bolivia and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 The Skatalites to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Circle Jerks,
Mandrill,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
Banda Bassotti,
Loose Ends,
Gang Green,
Echospace,
Yaz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Maleditus Sound,
Kayak,
Cheater Slicks,
The Misunderstood,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tubeway Army,
The American Breed,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
Con Funk Shun,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Junior Murvin,
Average White Band,
The Moleskins,
Aaron Thompson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sugar Minott,
Chris & Cosey,
Piero Umiliani,
E-Dancer,
Crooked Eye,
Hashim,
Oblivians,
Massinfluence,
Robert Wyatt,
The Martian,
Moebius,
Al Stewart,
DJ Style,
Urselle,
Accadde A,
Joey Negro,
Dawn Penn,
Wolf Eyes,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Sonics,
Adolescents,
X-102,
Blake Baxter,
Fear,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Move,
Andrew Hill,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.