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 Egypt and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Max Romeo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Rosa Yemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Motorama,
Flipper,
Jeff Mills,
Sun City Girls,
Marine Girls,
Aswad,
MC5,
Roxette,
Thompson Twins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultra Naté,
The Fuzztones,
Adolescents,
Soul Sonic Force,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Slits,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Jacques Brel,
Max Romeo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gabor Szabo,
Sparks,
The Tremeloes,
Sixth Finger,
The Dirtbombs,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wire,
the Swans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric Copeland,
The Mummies,
Bluetip,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tom Boy,
Ludus,
Theoretical Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Yusef Lateef,
Erasure,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantytec,
Thee Headcoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Skriet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sister Nancy,
Harry Pussy,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Dead Boys,
Soft Machine,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.