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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the rap 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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
The Five Americans,
The Invisible,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soft Cell,
The J.B.'s,
The Count Five,
Pagans,
Kerrie Biddell,
China Crisis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Misunderstood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Franke,
Connie Case,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scrapy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Moon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
10cc,
Symarip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yazoo,
Pere Ubu,
Lower 48,
Maleditus Sound,
The Real Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Marvin Gaye,
Aural Exciters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Todd Rundgren,
K-Klass,
Quantec,
The Barracudas,
Malaria!,
The Human League,
FM Einheit,
the Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Freddie Wadling,
Bush Tetras,
JFA,
Q and Not U,
Warren Ellis,
U.S. Maple,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alison Limerick,
KRS-One,
The Cowsills,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.