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 Grenada and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slits,
Popol Vuh,
The United States of America,
Minny Pops,
Main Source,
DNA,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nico,
Au Pairs,
Pere Ubu,
The Durutti Column,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Style,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Standells,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Martian,
Sällskapet,
Scion,
Alton Ellis,
Interpol,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yusef Lateef,
Ohio Players,
Alison Limerick,
Howard Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Eurythmics,
This Heat,
Bauhaus,
Brothers Johnson,
Tres Demented,
The Smiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blossom Toes,
Ronnie Foster,
Pole,
Grandmaster Flash,
The J.B.'s,
The Mojo Men,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rites of Spring,
The Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Buzzcocks,
David McCallum,
The Birthday Party,
The Red Krayola,
Moebius,
Rod Modell,
10cc,
The Raincoats,
Circle Jerks,
Grauzone,
Slick Rick,
Cybotron,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.