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 Czech Republic and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Knickerbockers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
the Normal,
Funkadelic,
The Gories,
Derrick May,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jacques Brel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Letta Mbulu,
Tears for Fears,
Youth Brigade,
Circle Jerks,
Stereo Dub,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rosa Yemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fat Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
These Immortal Souls,
Magazine,
Wings,
FM Einheit,
The Techniques,
Dorothy Ashby,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Move,
Rapeman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ituana,
Rekid,
Throbbing Gristle,
Magma,
Scan 7,
Chris & Cosey,
Suicide,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
June of 44,
Von Mondo,
Freddie Wadling,
The Misunderstood,
Nico,
Masters at Work,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lindisfarne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anthony Braxton,
Public Enemy,
Bauhaus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crooked Eye,
Crash Course in Science,
Heaven 17,
Yazoo,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Byrd,
Simply Red,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.