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 Iceland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the disco 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Lydon,
Hasil Adkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Scrapy,
Zero Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MC5,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tommy Roe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Victims,
Maurizio,
This Heat,
Sam Rivers,
Yellowson,
The Knickerbockers,
Laurel Aitken,
Traffic Nightmare,
Derrick May,
Moss Icon,
Brand Nubian,
The Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Leonard Cohen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
Colin Newman,
Depeche Mode,
The Fugs,
Vladislav Delay,
Prince Buster,
Ronnie Foster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
T. Rex,
Sound Behaviour,
Sällskapet,
Slave,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Terry,
Albert Ayler,
The Move,
Rod Modell,
Derrick Morgan,
Young Marble Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Velvet Underground,
Smog,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
The Barracudas,
Q65,
Toni Rubio,
Skarface,
Juan Atkins,
Hoover,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.