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 Australia and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar 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 Qualms to the dance 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Subhumans,
Ten City,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Drexciya,
Spandau Ballet,
Glenn Branca,
The Remains,
Technova,
Sun Ra,
Neu!,
Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
Joey Negro,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gong,
The Moleskins,
Wings,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Intrusion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joe Smooth,
Dave Gahan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Supertramp,
Ice-T,
Siglo XX,
Mars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terry Callier,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joensuu 1685,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Wyatt,
These Immortal Souls,
David Axelrod,
Moss Icon,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Masters at Work,
10cc,
Sexual Harrassment,
Qualms,
The Fugs,
Alice Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
Excepter,
Jeff Mills,
The Fuzztones,
Lucky Dragons,
Japan,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.