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 Kiribati and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minutemen to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Tropical Tobacco,
DJ Style,
Ralphi Rosario,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mission of Burma,
The Mummies,
AZ,
The Red Krayola,
Deepchord,
Khruangbin,
Icehouse,
The Angels of Light,
Byron Stingily,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Bananas,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
UT,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultimate Spinach,
CMW,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
10cc,
The Moleskins,
Steve Hackett,
Saccharine Trust,
Unrelated Segments,
Henry Cow,
T. Rex,
X-102,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Stooges,
Soft Cell,
Bootsy Collins,
Nico,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott Heron,
B.T. Express,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jacques Brel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Visage,
Mad Mike,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smoke,
Sun City Girls,
Tears for Fears,
The Music Machine,
Japan,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
Procol Harum,
Gichy Dan,
Popol Vuh,
Drive Like Jehu,
Motorama,
Slave,
MC5,
Black Flag,
John Coltrane,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.