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 Belarus and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 The Angels of Light to the crunk 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Osbourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lindisfarne,
The Dirtbombs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spandau Ballet,
Rotary Connection,
Erasure,
Shuggie Otis,
MDC,
The Standells,
Dennis Brown,
Circle Jerks,
The Victims,
Fad Gadget,
Slick Rick,
The Fire Engines,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Von Mondo,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slackers,
X-102,
Darondo,
Robert Wyatt,
Ten City,
Das Ding,
Oblivians,
Alphaville,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Slits,
Surgeon,
Amazonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Albert Ayler,
Desert Stars,
Adolescents,
Davy DMX,
Franke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Monolake,
the Soft Cell,
Maurizio,
The Human League,
Ralphi Rosario,
Michelle Simonal,
Little Man,
Brass Construction,
Harry Pussy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Patti Smith,
Rakim,
DJ Style,
Masters at Work,
Altered Images,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.