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 Seychelles and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mr. Review to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
The Misunderstood,
Smog,
Derrick May,
Neu!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
F. McDonald,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radiohead,
Talk Talk,
The Stooges,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Human League,
Desert Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
The Selecter,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Graham Central Station,
Lebanon Hanover,
Niagra,
Section 25,
Davy DMX,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Newcleus,
Metal Thangz,
Eric Copeland,
Swell Maps,
Sight & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cowsills,
Pantaleimon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Maurizio,
Boredoms,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Bourne,
Kayak,
Jandek,
Nik Kershaw,
Aswad,
Johnny Osbourne,
cv313,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Velvet Underground,
Fugazi,
Hasil Adkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Young Marble Giants,
Flash Fearless,
the Soft Cell,
Agent Orange,
Loose Ends,
Franke,
Darondo,
Negative Approach,
Symarip,
Black Pus,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.