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 Samoa and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 Joy Division to the rock 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
Deakin,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Offenders,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Womack,
Maleditus Sound,
Lakeside,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hashim,
Urselle,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
48th St. Collective,
Mars,
Pussy Galore,
Half Japanese,
Wolf Eyes,
The Victims,
Robert Görl,
Minnie Riperton,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Byrd,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Velvet Underground,
Pylon,
Tres Demented,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Goldenarms,
Lindisfarne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-Ray Spex,
Darondo,
Hot Snakes,
Black Pus,
New Order,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cecil Taylor,
Q65,
Robert Wyatt,
Bob Dylan,
Thompson Twins,
Suicide,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
The Fall,
Amon Düül,
Matthew Bourne,
Brothers Johnson,
Jandek,
Public Enemy,
The Moleskins,
Moss Icon,
Roxy Music,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Youth Brigade,
Gichy Dan,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.