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 Belize and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Theoretical Girls to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Isaac Hayes,
Susan Cadogan,
Barrington Levy,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Knickerbockers,
Los Fastidios,
Ice-T,
Grauzone,
The Gladiators,
The American Breed,
The Velvet Underground,
Agent Orange,
Fear,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Zeros,
The Fall,
Soft Cell,
The Mummies,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smoke,
Black Pus,
Sam Rivers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skaos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Faraquet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
D'Angelo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Durutti Column,
Cymande,
the Germs,
Pagans,
Graham Central Station,
The Music Machine,
Niagra,
The Gun Club,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Sneak,
Eden Ahbez,
E-Dancer,
Reagan Youth,
Slick Rick,
Gong,
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cybotron,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.