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 Lille.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Excepter,
Scratch Acid,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson,
Yaz,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Divine Comedy,
Piero Umiliani,
Pole,
T.S.O.L.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Raincoats,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fluxion,
Black Sheep,
The Invisible,
Scientists,
Make Up,
Jawbox,
Anakelly,
Echospace,
Depeche Mode,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marvin Gaye,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arcadia,
The Barracudas,
Deakin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lightning Bolt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nik Kershaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delon & Dalcan,
Siglo XX,
In Retrospect,
Oneida,
Heaven 17,
Dead Boys,
The Slits,
The Music Machine,
Mission of Burma,
Rosa Yemen,
Quantec,
Sällskapet,
Todd Terry,
Michelle Simonal,
The Names,
Intrusion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
China Crisis,
PIL,
The Busters,
Joey Negro,
Eric Dolphy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lyres,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.