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 France and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 E-Dancer to the techno 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
The Litter,
Wire,
Slick Rick,
Davy DMX,
The Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Barracudas,
Interpol,
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
Hashim,
Ituana,
Moss Icon,
the Fania All-Stars,
E-Dancer,
The Fall,
Carl Craig,
kango's stein massive,
Nirvana,
Dark Day,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Last Poets,
Nas,
Camberwell Now,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Moody Blues,
Panda Bear,
Dead Boys,
the Normal,
Erykah Badu,
Rekid,
The Divine Comedy,
10cc,
The United States of America,
Animal Collective,
Suburban Knight,
The Raincoats,
Letta Mbulu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Buzzcocks,
The Blues Magoos,
Charles Mingus,
Bush Tetras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aural Exciters,
Quadrant,
Young Marble Giants,
The Saints,
Radiopuhelimet,
F. McDonald,
Althea and Donna,
The Busters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scratch Acid,
Zapp,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
David McCallum,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.