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 Romania and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Birthday Party to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grey Daturas,
June of 44,
Bang On A Can,
Slave,
John Holt,
The Litter,
Tears for Fears,
Urselle,
Panda Bear,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Durutti Column,
Make Up,
Neu!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harry Pussy,
R.M.O.,
Joe Smooth,
Quantec,
Glenn Branca,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike,
Essential Logic,
Cecil Taylor,
F. McDonald,
Wolf Eyes,
Bronski Beat,
Cymande,
Suicide,
Monks,
Soulsonic Force,
Maurizio,
Sandy B,
Masters at Work,
Mission of Burma,
Deadbeat,
Shuggie Otis,
LL Cool J,
Soul II Soul,
Isaac Hayes,
Warren Ellis,
Sight & Sound,
B.T. Express,
Andrew Hill,
Kas Product,
Charles Mingus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Inner City,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Fraelich,
CMW,
Country Joe & The Fish,
D'Angelo,
AZ,
The Walker Brothers,
Animal Collective,
The Mummies,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blackbyrds,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.