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 Venezuela and from Philadelphia.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Oblivians to the funk 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shoche,
Joensuu 1685,
Can,
R.M.O.,
Theoretical Girls,
The Kinks,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
David McCallum,
Davy DMX,
Jeff Mills,
Rapeman,
Jawbox,
Brass Construction,
Ten City,
The Gladiators,
Junior Murvin,
Lyres,
Sight & Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Thee Headcoats,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Sheep,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Black Bananas,
Model 500,
Big Daddy Kane,
World's Most,
The Fortunes,
Masters at Work,
Smog,
Inner City,
JFA,
Rufus Thomas,
Joy Division,
Cheater Slicks,
Wings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Agitation Free,
Todd Rundgren,
Danielle Patucci,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Soft Cell,
Moss Icon,
Eve St. Jones,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
Ornette Coleman,
Audionom,
The Skatalites,
Yaz,
Youth Brigade,
Basic Channel,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.