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 Norway and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ponytail,
The Motions,
K-Klass,
cv313,
Hasil Adkins,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül,
Depeche Mode,
Stetsasonic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultravox,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Alice Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
Erasure,
Y Pants,
The Wake,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Sherman,
Saccharine Trust,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang of Four,
Panda Bear,
Slick Rick,
The Angels of Light,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cheater Slicks,
The Monks,
Peter & Gordon,
Roxy Music,
Quando Quango,
Wings,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
Letta Mbulu,
DJ Style,
F. McDonald,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pulsallama,
Graham Central Station,
Public Enemy,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Q65,
Ken Boothe,
Faust,
The Five Americans,
Althea and Donna,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.