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 East Timor and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Robert Görl to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Golliwogs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
Iggy Pop,
Nick Fraelich,
the Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mr. Review,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kaleidoscope,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fire Engines,
Inner City,
Shuggie Otis,
Yaz,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Al Stewart,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Lynne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Glambeats Corp.,
The United States of America,
The Tremeloes,
Davy DMX,
Ultra Naté,
Lalann,
Rapeman,
Sam Rivers,
Chris & Cosey,
Delta 5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mojo Men,
LL Cool J,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare,
Flipper,
Bob Dylan,
Skriet,
Radio Birdman,
the Sonics,
Black Flag,
Desert Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brothers Johnson,
Los Fastidios,
Lakeside,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tropical Tobacco,
MC5,
Bronski Beat,
The Slits,
Swell Maps,
Wasted Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Divine Comedy,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.