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 Jordan and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
The Black Dice,
Minny Pops,
Mary Jane Girls,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nas,
The Golliwogs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Second Layer,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Lydon,
the Normal,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Clarke,
Anthony Braxton,
Groovy Waters,
Kaleidoscope,
The Move,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Hill,
Barclay James Harvest,
Simply Red,
Animal Collective,
John Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
Anakelly,
Harry Pussy,
Radio Birdman,
Aswad,
Prince Buster,
Aural Exciters,
Sparks,
Eden Ahbez,
Drive Like Jehu,
Agitation Free,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Evens,
Mandrill,
Hasil Adkins,
Pole,
Flipper,
The Grass Roots,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Soft Cell,
Q and Not U,
Ludus,
Sonic Youth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Wire,
Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.