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 Georgia and from Lyon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar 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 Symarip to the grime 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Fad Gadget,
Half Japanese,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Terry,
Lucky Dragons,
Barbara Tucker,
Goldenarms,
Depeche Mode,
Joe Smooth,
Flipper,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Camouflage,
Minutemen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Bar-Kays,
Bronski Beat,
The Toasters,
Lungfish,
Barrington Levy,
Alton Ellis,
Kurtis Blow,
John Lydon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Sheep,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T. Rex,
Pere Ubu,
Charles Mingus,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nas,
Guru Guru,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Move,
Jeff Mills,
Yaz,
Prince Buster,
Minnie Riperton,
Fatback Band,
The Slits,
Audionom,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kenny Larkin,
Cal Tjader,
Peter and Kerry,
The Searchers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
ABBA,
The Offenders,
Gang Starr,
The Moody Blues,
X-101,
The Slackers,
F. McDonald,
Sight & Sound,
The Count Five,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.