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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hardrive to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Sixth Finger,
Vladislav Delay,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sight & Sound,
Surgeon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Stiv Bators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Steve Hackett,
Johnny Osbourne,
Livin' Joy,
Cluster,
Marcia Griffiths,
MC5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Main Source,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Grass Roots,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monks,
Visage,
Iggy Pop,
JFA,
Rotary Connection,
The Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Henry Cow,
Peter & Gordon,
the Soft Cell,
John Coltrane,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
Deepchord,
Shoche,
Monolake,
June Days,
Accadde A,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
Marmalade,
Neil Young,
Deakin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Echospace,
Motorama,
MDC,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.