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 Iran and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap 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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mr. Review,
The Fortunes,
Can,
Symarip,
Nik Kershaw,
Matthew Halsall,
The Modern Lovers,
Fugazi,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Saccharine Trust,
Pussy Galore,
the Slits,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Normal,
Eden Ahbez,
Brothers Johnson,
Circle Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Technova,
Rotary Connection,
Michelle Simonal,
Depeche Mode,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Offenders,
Gong,
New York Dolls,
Surgeon,
Buzzcocks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Metal Thangz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Suicide,
This Heat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marc Almond,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
A Certain Ratio,
Absolute Body Control,
Sam Rivers,
Derrick Morgan,
Bad Manners,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Loose Ends,
The Busters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Interpol,
Alice Coltrane,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.