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 Singapore and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Throbbing Gristle to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Agent Orange,
Erasure,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sällskapet,
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fear,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gories,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mantronix,
Maurizio,
Ornette Coleman,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joe Smooth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Little Man,
the Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arab on Radar,
Peter & Gordon,
Dawn Penn,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Andrew Hill,
Gang of Four,
The Zeros,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Human League,
OOIOO,
Siglo XX,
Quando Quango,
Dual Sessions,
John Holt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blake Baxter,
Davy DMX,
Bush Tetras,
The Walker Brothers,
the Normal,
Nirvana,
Bill Near,
Rod Modell,
Clear Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rotary Connection,
Angry Samoans,
Tommy Roe,
the Slits,
Massinfluence,
Pet Shop Boys,
Connie Case,
Sandy B,
Guru Guru,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.