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 Namibia and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jesper Dahlback to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Underground Resistance,
A Certain Ratio,
John Lydon,
Alison Limerick,
Magma,
Ronnie Foster,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Moleskins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quadrant,
Crash Course in Science,
Dorothy Ashby,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Masters at Work,
Eve St. Jones,
Marmalade,
Todd Terry,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring,
Sixth Finger,
The Leaves,
F. McDonald,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camberwell Now,
The Smiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultra Naté,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Juan Atkins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mission of Burma,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tubeway Army,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Iggy Pop,
Idris Muhammad,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Moon,
Unwound,
Derrick May,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Pantaleimon,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Womack,
Flamin' Groovies,
Circle Jerks,
Ten City,
Cluster,
kango's stein massive,
The Names,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.