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 Syria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Man Eating Sloth to the crunk 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Sheep,
Drive Like Jehu,
Davy DMX,
Cheater Slicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Visage,
cv313,
David McCallum,
Boredoms,
Skaos,
Pylon,
Sister Nancy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Young Rascals,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nik Kershaw,
The Seeds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stereo Dub,
Liliput,
Faust,
Los Fastidios,
Swans,
Suburban Knight,
X-Ray Spex,
Saccharine Trust,
Rapeman,
Gang Green,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
New Age Steppers,
Blossom Toes,
Kas Product,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sugar Minott,
Black Pus,
The Motions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DJ Sneak,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
T.S.O.L.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stiv Bators,
Janne Schatter,
Khruangbin,
KRS-One,
The American Breed,
Ice-T,
Rakim,
Maurizio,
Flash Fearless,
The Index,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.