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 Bologna.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Radiopuhelimet to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Graham Central Station,
MC5,
Deepchord,
MDC,
Laurel Aitken,
Silicon Teens,
the Fania All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
The Saints,
The Gories,
Ken Boothe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Morten Harket,
Skriet,
New Order,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Accadde A,
The Cowsills,
Dave Gahan,
The Fortunes,
Amon Düül,
Robert Wyatt,
Excepter,
Angry Samoans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
Camberwell Now,
The Angels of Light,
Smog,
Little Man,
Henry Cow,
Sällskapet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Faust,
The Cosmic Jokers,
R.M.O.,
UT,
The Trojans,
Crispy Ambulance,
a-ha,
World's Most,
Lebanon Hanover,
Steve Hackett,
June Days,
Marmalade,
Alphaville,
Yellowson,
Minny Pops,
Black Sheep,
The Blackbyrds,
The Raincoats,
Faraquet,
Max Romeo,
D'Angelo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rekid,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.