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 Bahamas and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Chrome to the jazz 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Faust,
Gang Starr,
ABC,
The Blues Magoos,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Intrusion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun City Girls,
John Foxx,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacques Brel,
Barrington Levy,
Youth Brigade,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lou Christie,
Banda Bassotti,
Malaria!,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
Con Funk Shun,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
John Holt,
Icehouse,
Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
Mantronix,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultravox,
Graham Central Station,
Masters at Work,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mo-Dettes,
Brick,
Stiv Bators,
The Moleskins,
Faraquet,
Joe Finger,
Unwound,
John Lydon,
Thee Headcoats,
Maurizio,
Sparks,
kango's stein massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shoche,
Soft Machine,
Index,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.