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 Nicaragua and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Techniques to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Alton Ellis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stereo Dub,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster,
Pantytec,
Maurizio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ronan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Standells,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
Nas,
Lakeside,
Mad Mike,
Henry Cow,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Red Krayola,
Harry Pussy,
Slick Rick,
KRS-One,
Carl Craig,
Depeche Mode,
The Monks,
Symarip,
Erykah Badu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Half Japanese,
Youth Brigade,
F. McDonald,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Archie Shepp,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Byrd,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric Dolphy,
H. Thieme,
The Dirtbombs,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Zero Boys,
Technova,
DJ Sneak,
Rakim,
Animal Collective,
Rites of Spring,
Ultra Naté,
LL Cool J,
Soft Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
Malaria!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Misunderstood,
Smog,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.