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 Costa Rica and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro 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 Unrelated Segments to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terry Callier,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Residents,
Soul II Soul,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sixth Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Symarip,
B.T. Express,
Young Marble Giants,
Deepchord,
Heaven 17,
Arthur Verocai,
The Toasters,
Model 500,
Niagra,
Moby Grape,
Stereo Dub,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wally Richardson,
Faust,
Spandau Ballet,
Erykah Badu,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Doors,
Albert Ayler,
China Crisis,
The Motions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Birthday Party,
Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
Silicon Teens,
Robert Hood,
Nico,
Khruangbin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stiv Bators,
Nick Fraelich,
Siglo XX,
Eric Copeland,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gladiators,
Hoover,
Tears for Fears,
Barry Ungar,
The Fugs,
Porter Ricks,
David Axelrod,
Boredoms,
Max Romeo,
World's Most,
Whodini,
Brass Construction,
Funkadelic,
Swans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.