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 Antigua and from Mumbai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 Henry Cow to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
KRS-One,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tubeway Army,
Max Romeo,
Black Moon,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doors,
the Human League,
Bang On A Can,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
Quando Quango,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
Panda Bear,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Motions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Excepter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra,
DNA,
The J.B.'s,
DJ Sneak,
Wolf Eyes,
Blake Baxter,
Television Personalities,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Moss Icon,
Ken Boothe,
Faraquet,
Bobby Womack,
CMW,
Eve St. Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
The Kinks,
Supertramp,
Harmonia,
Davy DMX,
Zapp,
Audionom,
Junior Murvin,
Wings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Underground Resistance,
Silicon Teens,
The Standells,
Model 500,
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
Symarip,
The Gories,
T. Rex,
The Mummies,
The Durutti Column,
June of 44,
Sun City Girls,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.