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 Niger and from Portland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Delta 5 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Camberwell Now,
The Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Moon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deepchord,
Theoretical Girls,
The Kinks,
Liliput,
Scion,
Dorothy Ashby,
David McCallum,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Görl,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
This Heat,
Talk Talk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Basic Channel,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Christie,
Archie Shepp,
Ronnie Foster,
The Star Department,
The Dead C,
Erasure,
Television,
Delon & Dalcan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Sarah Menescal,
Todd Rundgren,
Mo-Dettes,
Quantec,
The Sonics,
Marine Girls,
The Offenders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Procol Harum,
Cecil Taylor,
OOIOO,
Agitation Free,
Pulsallama,
Depeche Mode,
Goldenarms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
10cc,
Blake Baxter,
Kayak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
kango's stein massive,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
The Martian,
The Modern Lovers,
the Germs,
Roxy Music,
Fela Kuti,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.