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 Uzbekistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Stereo Dub to the crunk 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Skriet,
Echospace,
Aural Exciters,
The Remains,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brand Nubian,
The Sound,
Ituana,
LL Cool J,
Minny Pops,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
Flash Fearless,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed,
The J.B.'s,
June of 44,
Procol Harum,
Scan 7,
Warsaw,
Siglo XX,
Amazonics,
Mandrill,
Darondo,
Don Cherry,
Camouflage,
Q65,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Colin Newman,
Isaac Hayes,
Pylon,
Yellowson,
Jeff Lynne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angry Samoans,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Bananas,
the Normal,
Terry Callier,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Sherman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Radio Birdman,
Public Enemy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Qualms,
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
New York Dolls,
Lightning Bolt,
Underground Resistance,
Arab on Radar,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Motorama,
Jandek,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Starr,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Foxx,
Trumans Water,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.