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 Comoros and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Slick Rick to the punk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer 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 synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Barry Ungar,
Matthew Halsall,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric Dolphy,
The Durutti Column,
Flipper,
Quadrant,
Charles Mingus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jawbox,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scratch Acid,
Fat Boys,
Heaven 17,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Max Romeo,
The Smoke,
the Normal,
Jerry's Kids,
Sixth Finger,
Minor Threat,
Boredoms,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Near,
Grey Daturas,
Make Up,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sarah Menescal,
The Stooges,
The Fugs,
Pere Ubu,
MC5,
Donald Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Don Cherry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Derrick May,
Freddie Wadling,
a-ha,
Fatback Band,
Neu!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
AZ,
Camberwell Now,
John Coltrane,
Unwound,
Mars,
Basic Channel,
Mr. Review,
the Germs,
Tim Buckley,
Reuben Wilson,
T. Rex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
L. Decosne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.