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 Turkmenistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
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 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 Jesper Dahlback to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Wasted Youth,
Dark Day,
Gang Starr,
Masters at Work,
Kayak,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lungfish,
Joe Smooth,
Aural Exciters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Duran Duran,
10cc,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultra Naté,
Nirvana,
The Motions,
Althea and Donna,
Barrington Levy,
The Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
F. McDonald,
The Kinks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sällskapet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Henry Cow,
The Vogues,
Magma,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Last Poets,
Tubeway Army,
The Happenings,
Blancmange,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Essential Logic,
the Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cure,
Index,
The Names,
The Move,
The Knickerbockers,
Cymande,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-101,
Symarip,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lalo Schifrin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
The Cramps,
Ten City,
Main Source,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gun Club,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Bar-Kays,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.