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 Albania and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bronski Beat to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Pussy Galore,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Circle Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Von Mondo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
EPMD,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Mars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sonics,
Camberwell Now,
Model 500,
Oblivians,
Wire,
Fluxion,
Pantaleimon,
Marc Almond,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Hill,
Hoover,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fall,
Brick,
Wings,
The American Breed,
Rites of Spring,
Buzzcocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brothers Johnson,
Make Up,
Outsiders,
John Holt,
Lalann,
Bush Tetras,
UT,
Rakim,
Erykah Badu,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang Starr,
The Modern Lovers,
The Grass Roots,
Public Enemy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Five Americans,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeff Mills,
Supertramp,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Funkadelic,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.