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 Belize and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer 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 Pop Group to the grunge 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Grass Roots,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Wyatt,
Liliput,
Sandy B,
Joy Division,
Kas Product,
L. Decosne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bauhaus,
Lindisfarne,
The Offenders,
the Association,
Dual Sessions,
Jacob Miller,
Y Pants,
The Slits,
Jeff Mills,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Interpol,
The Dirtbombs,
Stiv Bators,
Silicon Teens,
Symarip,
Massinfluence,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reagan Youth,
Gong,
Mark Hollis,
Mission of Burma,
Rakim,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
EPMD,
Pierre Henry,
Barrington Levy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Grey Daturas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aural Exciters,
Urselle,
B.T. Express,
The Neon Judgement,
Jerry's Kids,
Althea and Donna,
Basic Channel,
T. Rex,
The Martian,
Matthew Halsall,
The Barracudas,
Lungfish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Parry Music,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
the Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.