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 Mauritania and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Matthew Bourne to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
OOIOO,
Technova,
The Flesh Eaters,
Subhumans,
Sarah Menescal,
Nirvana,
Mad Mike,
EPMD,
Boredoms,
Kenny Larkin,
Basic Channel,
Bronski Beat,
MDC,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sister Nancy,
The Motions,
Todd Rundgren,
Joey Negro,
Youth Brigade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moss Icon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang On A Can,
Crime,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Hot Snakes,
The Doors,
The Names,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blancmange,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hardrive,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sex Pistols,
Sonic Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
The Raincoats,
Marshall Jefferson,
Clear Light,
Unrelated Segments,
The Buckinghams,
Kas Product,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
The Move,
Fatback Band,
China Crisis,
New Order,
Brass Construction,
The Associates,
Sound Behaviour,
Arcadia,
Laurel Aitken,
Hashim,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Organ,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.