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 Madagascar and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ice-T to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Joe Finger,
The Happenings,
Man Parrish,
The Skatalites,
The Dirtbombs,
Aswad,
Letta Mbulu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skaos,
Ponytail,
The Index,
New York Dolls,
La Düsseldorf,
Scientists,
Lebanon Hanover,
Circle Jerks,
Excepter,
Anthony Braxton,
Ornette Coleman,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joensuu 1685,
Accadde A,
Prince Buster,
The Invisible,
Jawbox,
Warren Ellis,
Maurizio,
Monks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rakim,
Make Up,
Section 25,
Eddi Front,
Albert Ayler,
The Sound,
Heaven 17,
the Normal,
Matthew Bourne,
Absolute Body Control,
Nils Olav,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Martian,
Rekid,
The Trojans,
The Residents,
Maleditus Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
One Last Wish,
The Smoke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kurtis Blow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
This Heat,
kango's stein massive,
Rod Modell,
ABC,
Marmalade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.