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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dark Day to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Susan Cadogan,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Skaos,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Panda Bear,
Severed Heads,
Shuggie Otis,
Archie Shepp,
the Association,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Adolescents,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
T.S.O.L.,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Stereo Dub,
Goldenarms,
Arthur Verocai,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pole,
Drexciya,
The Shadows of Knight,
Piero Umiliani,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
Fear,
Carl Craig,
Ultra Naté,
Moss Icon,
The Dead C,
Bill Wells,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
Gichy Dan,
Dave Gahan,
ABBA,
Tomorrow,
Quando Quango,
The Moleskins,
Intrusion,
Easy Going,
The Cramps,
CMW,
Soulsonic Force,
Essential Logic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mars,
Black Flag,
Swell Maps,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Blues Magoos,
The Electric Prunes,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.