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 Zimbabwe and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Underground Resistance to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Almond,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cramps,
New Age Steppers,
New Order,
Silicon Teens,
Johnny Clarke,
Lakeside,
Lightning Bolt,
Banda Bassotti,
Fluxion,
Visage,
the Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Tim Buckley,
Khruangbin,
Agitation Free,
MDC,
The Smiths,
Dawn Penn,
These Immortal Souls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Association,
Marmalade,
The Count Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Royal Trux,
The Real Kids,
Parry Music,
Al Stewart,
The J.B.'s,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott Heron,
MC5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bob Dylan,
Barry Ungar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dual Sessions,
Smog,
The Motions,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Model 500,
The Gun Club,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television,
Nas,
Albert Ayler,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.