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 Ethiopia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Kenny Larkin to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Harry Pussy,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
MC5,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lalann,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
DNA,
These Immortal Souls,
The Pretty Things,
Althea and Donna,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Hood,
Ken Boothe,
Ten City,
Skriet,
The Saints,
Joy Division,
Brick,
Altered Images,
A Certain Ratio,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Black Sheep,
Rosa Yemen,
Leonard Cohen,
Alison Limerick,
The Standells,
Lucky Dragons,
The Techniques,
Lindisfarne,
This Heat,
Subhumans,
Ossler,
The Stooges,
Das Ding,
Visage,
Bob Dylan,
The Motions,
Darondo,
E-Dancer,
The Slackers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Beau Brummels,
Toni Rubio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harmonia,
Scientists,
Yellowson,
The Count Five,
Magazine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Qualms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mr. Review,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.