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 Costa Rica and from London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 the Human League to the rap 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Main Source,
Thompson Twins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Al Stewart,
Ice-T,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terry Callier,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Kinks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Count Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marvin Gaye,
Japan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glenn Branca,
Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Chris Corsano,
Pulsallama,
Rites of Spring,
Average White Band,
Goldenarms,
Scan 7,
Wire,
The Evens,
Robert Wyatt,
Robert Görl,
Desert Stars,
The Birthday Party,
The Grass Roots,
48th St. Collective,
The Last Poets,
Eddi Front,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chris & Cosey,
Dorothy Ashby,
Adolescents,
The Modern Lovers,
Subhumans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Metal Thangz,
Erasure,
Mo-Dettes,
Visage,
JFA,
The Seeds,
In Retrospect,
June of 44,
DJ Style,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masters at Work,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.