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 Denmark and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Glenn Branca to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Music Machine,
Television,
Tres Demented,
Gregory Isaacs,
Motorama,
Supertramp,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Whodini,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lyres,
Alice Coltrane,
Spoonie Gee,
In Retrospect,
The Smoke,
Duran Duran,
The Barracudas,
Radio Birdman,
Slick Rick,
Ultravox,
Popol Vuh,
Outsiders,
Warsaw,
kango's stein massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Last Poets,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Angels of Light,
Barrington Levy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Toni Rubio,
Rapeman,
The Pop Group,
Das Ding,
China Crisis,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Y Pants,
Vainqueur,
Robert Hood,
Rotary Connection,
The Dead C,
The Mojo Men,
Scan 7,
Rekid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Goldenarms,
JFA,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
Faust,
New York Dolls,
Thompson Twins,
MDC,
Swans,
Hoover,
The Evens,
The Sonics,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Coltrane,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.