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 Philippines and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Derrick Morgan to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Swell Maps,
Judy Mowatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sparks,
Mad Mike,
Public Image Ltd.,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marine Girls,
Henry Cow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blake Baxter,
Malaria!,
Angry Samoans,
Quadrant,
The Fortunes,
The Slackers,
Michelle Simonal,
Tears for Fears,
Eurythmics,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Icehouse,
Stetsasonic,
Kenny Larkin,
KRS-One,
Eve St. Jones,
The Evens,
Whodini,
June Days,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nik Kershaw,
Dark Day,
cv313,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Smog,
Sonny Sharrock,
Juan Atkins,
Roxette,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül II,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skriet,
Excepter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drexciya,
UT,
Eric Copeland,
Rotary Connection,
The Fall,
ABC,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.