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 Uruguay and from Mexico City.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Von Mondo,
Cal Tjader,
The Wake,
Pylon,
Sam Rivers,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wally Richardson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hoover,
Rod Modell,
Mo-Dettes,
Saccharine Trust,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Dirtbombs,
Brass Construction,
The Dead C,
La Düsseldorf,
Unrelated Segments,
The Busters,
Matthew Halsall,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ten City,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agent Orange,
Throbbing Gristle,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Easy Going,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiopuhelimet,
Joey Negro,
Marc Almond,
Ultra Naté,
Quadrant,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Minnie Riperton,
Vladislav Delay,
The Count Five,
DJ Sneak,
Heaven 17,
Funky Four + One,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Near,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Sherman,
The Pop Group,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
Nico,
Wings,
Joe Smooth,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.