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 Libya and from Tehran.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 The Blues Magoos to the funk 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Andrew Hill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sight & Sound,
Kayak,
Desert Stars,
Magazine,
Mission of Burma,
Public Enemy,
Suicide,
Chris & Cosey,
Glambeats Corp.,
Absolute Body Control,
The Offenders,
Icehouse,
John Holt,
The Neon Judgement,
Subhumans,
Ice-T,
The Five Americans,
Goldenarms,
The Happenings,
The Seeds,
Judy Mowatt,
Brick,
Sugar Minott,
Supertramp,
Black Bananas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cecil Taylor,
Nirvana,
Blancmange,
Little Man,
Blake Baxter,
Ponytail,
Brothers Johnson,
Bootsy Collins,
Faust,
ABBA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
Bronski Beat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
The United States of America,
Roxette,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Skatalites,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Saints,
The Black Dice,
Minor Threat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Moon,
Guru Guru,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
Amazonics,
Cal Tjader,
The Kinks,
Section 25,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.