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 Somalia and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Television Personalities to the dance 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Names,
Dead Boys,
David McCallum,
MC5,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sixth Finger,
Von Mondo,
Lower 48,
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mr. Review,
Blake Baxter,
Letta Mbulu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Last Poets,
One Last Wish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Negative Approach,
Bill Wells,
48th St. Collective,
Darondo,
Gichy Dan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Goldenarms,
The Music Machine,
Average White Band,
Ultra Naté,
The Detroit Cobras,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
Infiniti,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Barclay James Harvest,
Second Layer,
UT,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Reed,
Aaron Thompson,
The Birthday Party,
The Vogues,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
The Tremeloes,
FM Einheit,
Terry Callier,
June of 44,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Harmonia,
Black Sheep,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bauhaus,
Aswad,
Little Man,
Sällskapet,
Hoover,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.