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 Congo and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Rekid to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Deadbeat,
Althea and Donna,
Section 25,
The Mummies,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pylon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Morten Harket,
New Order,
Lightning Bolt,
Ituana,
Amon Düül,
Joe Finger,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
Audionom,
Jawbox,
48th St. Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marcia Griffiths,
A Certain Ratio,
Quando Quango,
Archie Shepp,
The Last Poets,
Interpol,
Yaz,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shuggie Otis,
The Walker Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
Ralphi Rosario,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Enemy,
Drive Like Jehu,
The New Christs,
Boredoms,
Adolescents,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang of Four,
Lower 48,
Severed Heads,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wally Richardson,
Banda Bassotti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soulsonic Force,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.