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 Slovakia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hasil Adkins to the techno 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Eden Ahbez,
Maleditus Sound,
Marc Almond,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sonic Youth,
Q and Not U,
New Age Steppers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minutemen,
Funky Four + One,
The Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeff Mills,
Lungfish,
Jacob Miller,
Kerri Chandler,
Dawn Penn,
Alice Coltrane,
Sound Behaviour,
Leonard Cohen,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
In Retrospect,
Tears for Fears,
Theoretical Girls,
Panda Bear,
The Buckinghams,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Style,
Jerry's Kids,
Youth Brigade,
Albert Ayler,
The Dead C,
The Durutti Column,
Minnie Riperton,
Alphaville,
The Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Au Pairs,
Moby Grape,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shuggie Otis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Junior Murvin,
The Doors,
Gastr Del Sol,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Crooked Eye,
Unrelated Segments,
Freddie Wadling,
Cameo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.