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 Lebanon and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Panda Bear to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
New York Dolls,
The Divine Comedy,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Flag,
The Smiths,
Neil Young,
Oblivians,
PIL,
Chris Corsano,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Subhumans,
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
The Standells,
Magma,
The Black Dice,
Ossler,
The Last Poets,
Hardrive,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Buzzcocks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Invisible,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
Theoretical Girls,
Panda Bear,
Grauzone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultra Naté,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amazonics,
Ultravox,
Todd Rundgren,
Wire,
Yellowson,
Q65,
Crooked Eye,
Bush Tetras,
The Techniques,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Fraelich,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
David Axelrod,
Con Funk Shun,
The Martian,
The Mummies,
Michelle Simonal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nils Olav,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.