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 Tuvalu and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 U.S. Maple to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Jacob Miller,
Tubeway Army,
Peter and Kerry,
Simply Red,
Patti Smith,
Magazine,
Magma,
The Index,
Mantronix,
Gang of Four,
Aloha Tigers,
The Beau Brummels,
Toni Rubio,
Swans,
Silicon Teens,
Eden Ahbez,
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Roxy Music,
Steve Hackett,
Ultra Naté,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flash Fearless,
Los Fastidios,
Jawbox,
Franke,
Junior Murvin,
The Seeds,
Cecil Taylor,
Scion,
Maurizio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lakeside,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
Dark Day,
Newcleus,
Shoche,
The Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brick,
Eric Copeland,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Porter Ricks,
Mandrill,
Minor Threat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Royal Trux,
Alice Coltrane,
Cluster,
Gichy Dan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Matthew Halsall,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Minnie Riperton,
The Grass Roots,
Television Personalities,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.