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 Cape Verde and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Ultra Naté,
Royal Trux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minny Pops,
Peter & Gordon,
Reuben Wilson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
In Retrospect,
Ten City,
Harry Pussy,
Surgeon,
Los Fastidios,
Khruangbin,
Sam Rivers,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
Circle Jerks,
Mantronix,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
JFA,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Donald Byrd,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Smiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radio Birdman,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
Absolute Body Control,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mr. Review,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Big Daddy Kane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sparks,
The Zeros,
Livin' Joy,
Youth Brigade,
DJ Sneak,
Deadbeat,
Yazoo,
Prince Buster,
Sex Pistols,
Excepter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Byrd,
Roy Ayers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Max Romeo,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Style,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pussy Galore,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.