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 Madagascar and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Move to the grunge 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 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 Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Monks,
Ohio Players,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
Warsaw,
Andrew Hill,
Vladislav Delay,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pussy Galore,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dirtbombs,
Adolescents,
Kenny Larkin,
Smog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Foxx,
Joey Negro,
Wolf Eyes,
Bad Manners,
The Young Rascals,
Delon & Dalcan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Rundgren,
The Barracudas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dead Boys,
Lungfish,
Underground Resistance,
JFA,
Dennis Brown,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Danielle Patucci,
The Smoke,
Idris Muhammad,
Skarface,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
June Days,
Arcadia,
Eddi Front,
Kevin Saunderson,
T.S.O.L.,
Aaron Thompson,
10cc,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter & Gordon,
The Walker Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
Frankie Knuckles,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.