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 Haiti and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro 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 June Days to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Infiniti,
The Searchers,
Trumans Water,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tim Buckley,
Kaleidoscope,
Stetsasonic,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fat Boys,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
ABC,
Tubeway Army,
Eden Ahbez,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
cv313,
Sonic Youth,
The Raincoats,
Jeff Mills,
The Buckinghams,
Judy Mowatt,
Negative Approach,
Motorama,
Radio Birdman,
Rapeman,
Kas Product,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Funky Four + One,
the Soft Cell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Faust,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
Adolescents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric Dolphy,
Sällskapet,
The Litter,
Q65,
Lindisfarne,
Talk Talk,
Liliput,
Pere Ubu,
Dennis Brown,
Blossom Toes,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Charles Mingus,
A Certain Ratio,
Bang On A Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cymande,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.