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 Swaziland and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Make Up to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
The Mojo Men,
Funky Four + One,
Camouflage,
Eli Mardock,
Liliput,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wire,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!,
Pierre Henry,
The Motions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Moon,
The Skatalites,
B.T. Express,
Janne Schatter,
EPMD,
The Vogues,
KRS-One,
Scratch Acid,
Sight & Sound,
The Real Kids,
Quando Quango,
The Fire Engines,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Durutti Column,
The Blackbyrds,
John Holt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Golliwogs,
10cc,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Panda Bear,
The Dead C,
The Monochrome Set,
Davy DMX,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arcadia,
Stetsasonic,
Todd Terry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Minnie Riperton,
Byron Stingily,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ken Boothe,
Aaron Thompson,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Moody Blues,
Alton Ellis,
Babytalk,
Barbara Tucker,
Negative Approach,
Graham Central Station,
Mr. Review,
Marc Almond,
Half Japanese,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.