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 Hungary and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Aswad to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
The Monochrome Set,
X-Ray Spex,
Marine Girls,
Kayak,
Donald Byrd,
The Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Hardrive,
The Fortunes,
The Move,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Index,
Adolescents,
The Smiths,
Tim Buckley,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Martian,
Main Source,
Scott Walker,
Todd Terry,
Scientists,
The Moleskins,
Arcadia,
MDC,
U.S. Maple,
The Kinks,
Lightning Bolt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The New Christs,
Sister Nancy,
The Searchers,
the Germs,
Arthur Verocai,
Newcleus,
Crime,
Mantronix,
Jacques Brel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pantaleimon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
LL Cool J,
Fat Boys,
E-Dancer,
Wings,
PIL,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Judy Mowatt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bang On A Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Vogues,
Bluetip,
The Real Kids,
Oneida,
Amazonics,
Chris & Cosey,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Divine Comedy,
Dark Day,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.