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 Italy and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
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 marimba 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 Sandy B to the crunk 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Main Source,
John Foxx,
The Divine Comedy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Byron Stingily,
The Cure,
Gang Starr,
Juan Atkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Half Japanese,
The Buckinghams,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-Ray Spex,
Alice Coltrane,
Nas,
Underground Resistance,
Vladislav Delay,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bauhaus,
The Searchers,
Funkadelic,
Magma,
The Sound,
Unwound,
Shoche,
Rites of Spring,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispian St. Peters,
Colin Newman,
Bob Dylan,
The New Christs,
The Pretty Things,
Q and Not U,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wasted Youth,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Skarface,
Scion,
Maurizio,
Davy DMX,
AZ,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Almond,
Outsiders,
Max Romeo,
a-ha,
The Velvet Underground,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
Duran Duran,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sex Pistols,
Can,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.