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 Gambia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joe Smooth to the techno 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Bill Near,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Holt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arcadia,
Moby Grape,
Lakeside,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yazoo,
Junior Murvin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quando Quango,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
Henry Cow,
The Victims,
Nas,
The Saints,
Terrestrial Tones,
Piero Umiliani,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
Neu!,
H. Thieme,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Dark Day,
Jawbox,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Birthday Party,
The Evens,
Funky Four + One,
Kayak,
DNA,
Goldenarms,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Boredoms,
Erykah Badu,
Interpol,
Stereo Dub,
Dual Sessions,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Newcleus,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scrapy,
Sister Nancy,
Alphaville,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Martian,
Pussy Galore,
The Names,
Black Moon,
Cameo,
Black Sheep,
Niagra,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.