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 Thailand and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 June of 44 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultra Naté,
Eden Ahbez,
Susan Cadogan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bootsy Collins,
Jacob Miller,
Mo-Dettes,
Sister Nancy,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-101,
The Saints,
Joey Negro,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus,
CMW,
The Cowsills,
The Gladiators,
Royal Trux,
Ponytail,
The Skatalites,
Black Moon,
The Slackers,
Marc Almond,
Unrelated Segments,
Minny Pops,
Jawbox,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monks,
The Tremeloes,
Neil Young,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
Maleditus Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Starr,
Nirvana,
Mr. Review,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Infiniti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Hashim,
Flipper,
The Star Department,
Bill Wells,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
Eric Dolphy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Association,
Deakin,
Hasil Adkins,
Pylon,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.