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 China and from Mexico City.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
The Invisible,
Godley & Creme,
Joyce Sims,
Au Pairs,
The Dirtbombs,
The Buckinghams,
Camouflage,
Yusef Lateef,
Spoonie Gee,
The Leaves,
Avey Tare,
Sugar Minott,
Spandau Ballet,
The Associates,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Basic Channel,
Scan 7,
Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Christie,
Con Funk Shun,
Babytalk,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nick Fraelich,
Livin' Joy,
Infiniti,
Fear,
Animal Collective,
Davy DMX,
Dawn Penn,
Fat Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
The Move,
Moby Grape,
Cecil Taylor,
Tommy Roe,
Lower 48,
The Happenings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gories,
Soulsonic Force,
Rites of Spring,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
10cc,
Sly & The Family Stone,
ABBA,
Jandek,
Sun City Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Sarah Menescal,
Visage,
Steve Hackett,
Maleditus Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.