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 Sweden and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Glenn Branca to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Hasil Adkins,
John Cale,
Shoche,
Sex Pistols,
The Walker Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Womack,
Porter Ricks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Count Five,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues,
Television Personalities,
Slave,
Television,
The Blues Magoos,
Sparks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Thompson Twins,
Peter and Kerry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
Bobby Byrd,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alton Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pussy Galore,
The Martian,
The Remains,
Roy Ayers,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monks,
Cymande,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
Siglo XX,
Lucky Dragons,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flash Fearless,
The Mojo Men,
the Slits,
Lalann,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
The Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Soft Cell,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.