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 Liberia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Fire Engines,
Juan Atkins,
B.T. Express,
Zapp,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Modern Lovers,
UT,
Newcleus,
Moss Icon,
Little Man,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Bananas,
Porter Ricks,
Marine Girls,
KRS-One,
Altered Images,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Negative Approach,
Deadbeat,
Outsiders,
DJ Sneak,
Television,
The Detroit Cobras,
Panda Bear,
Groovy Waters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
Fela Kuti,
Wire,
The Five Americans,
Alice Coltrane,
Dennis Brown,
Nation of Ulysses,
Saccharine Trust,
Max Romeo,
Technova,
The Leaves,
The Fuzztones,
Blake Baxter,
Bronski Beat,
Minny Pops,
Section 25,
DNA,
Wolf Eyes,
Joe Smooth,
Scion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Junior Murvin,
Toni Rubio,
Eve St. Jones,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Be Bop Deluxe,
World's Most,
The Barracudas,
Ultra Naté,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
Sarah Menescal,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.