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 Estonia and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Minutemen to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Doors,
John Lydon,
The Moody Blues,
Yaz,
Wire,
Pharoah Sanders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Circle Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Man Parrish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Half Japanese,
Joensuu 1685,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Trojans,
New Age Steppers,
U.S. Maple,
Brass Construction,
Eden Ahbez,
Deadbeat,
Althea and Donna,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Easy Going,
Cheater Slicks,
Newcleus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
Idris Muhammad,
The Residents,
The Human League,
Gong,
The Litter,
Fugazi,
Darondo,
June Days,
Bluetip,
The Standells,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rhythm & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
The Blues Magoos,
Boz Scaggs,
X-Ray Spex,
Theoretical Girls,
Desert Stars,
Little Man,
The Mojo Men,
The Gap Band,
Symarip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pierre Henry,
Make Up,
Nirvana,
Piero Umiliani,
F. McDonald,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Duran Duran,
Soul II Soul,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.