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 Uzbekistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Joyce Sims 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Trumans Water,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Y Pants,
The Barracudas,
Laurel Aitken,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suburban Knight,
Gastr Del Sol,
Donny Hathaway,
Bob Dylan,
Mission of Burma,
the Germs,
Liliput,
Can,
Blake Baxter,
New Order,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minnie Riperton,
AZ,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Gun Club,
John Foxx,
The Invisible,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Curtis Mayfield,
Simply Red,
The Gap Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Public Enemy,
Organ,
Avey Tare,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Index,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
World's Most,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Electric Prunes,
Thompson Twins,
X-101,
The Walker Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
the Normal,
Fugazi,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
New York Dolls,
PIL,
Negative Approach,
Susan Cadogan,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
Nico,
The Red Krayola,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Maleditus Sound,
Jacob Miller,
Ornette Coleman,
Circle Jerks,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.