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 Austria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Robert Hood to the electroclash 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Joey Negro,
Freddie Wadling,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scrapy,
Quando Quango,
Thompson Twins,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
Groovy Waters,
The Fugs,
AZ,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sex Pistols,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Television Personalities,
Donald Byrd,
the Association,
John Foxx,
Gichy Dan,
The Red Krayola,
Donny Hathaway,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mission of Burma,
Albert Ayler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sight & Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slits,
The Offenders,
Faust,
Cameo,
Pere Ubu,
Siglo XX,
Fat Boys,
Black Pus,
Cal Tjader,
the Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Delta 5,
The Vogues,
Blancmange,
Ornette Coleman,
Patti Smith,
Gang Green,
Bobby Womack,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ken Boothe,
Essential Logic,
Silicon Teens,
Wasted Youth,
The American Breed,
The Five Americans,
The Selecter,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wally Richardson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Morten Harket,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.