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 Bahrain and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fad Gadget to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Chris & Cosey,
Skarface,
Yellowson,
kango's stein massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mo-Dettes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
JFA,
Cluster,
Michelle Simonal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cramps,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Second Layer,
A Certain Ratio,
Minutemen,
Q and Not U,
The Barracudas,
Iggy Pop,
Cybotron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dark Day,
B.T. Express,
Shuggie Otis,
Metal Thangz,
Eve St. Jones,
AZ,
Derrick Morgan,
Masters at Work,
Lyres,
Aloha Tigers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mars,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Womack,
Mark Hollis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nirvana,
KRS-One,
The Seeds,
The Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Khruangbin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Laurel Aitken,
Blancmange,
The Invisible,
Brand Nubian,
Urselle,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.