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 Nepal and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fluxion to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Black Pus,
Desert Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Cowsills,
Lungfish,
The Fortunes,
Arcadia,
the Slits,
Hoover,
Man Parrish,
the Association,
Model 500,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ponytail,
Guru Guru,
Hot Snakes,
The Trojans,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Zapp,
Das Ding,
Jeff Mills,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Byrd,
Altered Images,
Archie Shepp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anakelly,
Can,
Pere Ubu,
Oblivians,
Robert Görl,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anthony Braxton,
Godley & Creme,
Eddi Front,
The Buckinghams,
DJ Sneak,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Average White Band,
The Slits,
Josef K,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare,
Lindisfarne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Juan Atkins,
The Toasters,
Young Marble Giants,
Liliput,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
ABBA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.