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 Latvia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Depeche Mode to the crunk 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Skriet,
Wally Richardson,
Parry Music,
Barry Ungar,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scion,
Don Cherry,
Goldenarms,
Monks,
Donald Byrd,
One Last Wish,
The Vogues,
Kaleidoscope,
Moss Icon,
Kas Product,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Tom Boy,
Cymande,
Gong,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cowsills,
John Holt,
China Crisis,
Tubeway Army,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wolf Eyes,
Dawn Penn,
Howard Jones,
Dark Day,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Chris & Cosey,
Bob Dylan,
Josef K,
Clear Light,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Dead Boys,
The Slackers,
Marvin Gaye,
The American Breed,
Lyres,
Robert Hood,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Saints,
Charles Mingus,
Malaria!,
Saccharine Trust,
Basic Channel,
Carl Craig,
Ice-T,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suicide,
Radio Birdman,
T. Rex,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.