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 Botswana 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 The Zeros to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Organ,
Swans,
Lalann,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aloha Tigers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Infiniti,
Eddi Front,
The Martian,
Albert Ayler,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mo-Dettes,
The Divine Comedy,
AZ,
Max Romeo,
Soul II Soul,
Masters at Work,
Von Mondo,
Quadrant,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Sheep,
Fela Kuti,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Judy Mowatt,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cramps,
Underground Resistance,
Con Funk Shun,
Alice Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Yazoo,
John Holt,
Brass Construction,
Bauhaus,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alphaville,
Radio Birdman,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The J.B.'s,
Marvin Gaye,
Anthony Braxton,
Deepchord,
Gang of Four,
The Mojo Men,
Popol Vuh,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joe Smooth,
Eurythmics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
Junior Murvin,
Barbara Tucker,
Average White Band,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.