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 Papua New Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Black Sheep to the rock 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Prince Buster,
Jandek,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dual Sessions,
Roger Hodgson,
Sight & Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Ronnie Foster,
Royal Trux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dave Gahan,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Laurel Aitken,
The Last Poets,
Michelle Simonal,
Maleditus Sound,
Ossler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Stooges,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Siglo XX,
U.S. Maple,
Liliput,
The Wake,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
The Invisible,
X-101,
Sam Rivers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Matthew Bourne,
Urselle,
AZ,
Black Bananas,
The Neon Judgement,
Chrome,
48th St. Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Leaves,
The Saints,
Little Man,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gap Band,
Camberwell Now,
the Normal,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aloha Tigers,
Sound Behaviour,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
The Tremeloes,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
Anakelly,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.