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 Papua New Guinea and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rufus Thomas to the rap 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Alphaville,
Lyres,
Babytalk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Brass Construction,
the Human League,
Kenny Larkin,
Tom Boy,
Accadde A,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
Ice-T,
Roxy Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
LL Cool J,
E-Dancer,
The New Christs,
Adolescents,
Tommy Roe,
Patti Smith,
The Associates,
The Invisible,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Outsiders,
The Black Dice,
The Golliwogs,
Y Pants,
Warren Ellis,
Subhumans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Kinks,
Mr. Review,
John Holt,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
Leonard Cohen,
Smog,
The Victims,
Gang Green,
The Walker Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronan,
Marc Almond,
Ultra Naté,
The Mummies,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Flag,
D'Angelo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Womack,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Barracudas,
Barry Ungar,
Rites of Spring,
Supertramp,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.