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 Venezuela and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eric B and Rakim to the jazz 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Raincoats,
the Slits,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
The Walker Brothers,
The Saints,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Altered Images,
The J.B.'s,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jacques Brel,
The Smoke,
Echospace,
The Fortunes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cheater Slicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nik Kershaw,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eden Ahbez,
PIL,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
ABBA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Chris & Cosey,
Sugar Minott,
The Motions,
Lou Christie,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
The Slackers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pere Ubu,
The Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Subhumans,
Youth Brigade,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Remains,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Howard Jones,
Albert Ayler,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Motorama,
The Star Department,
The Evens,
The Toasters,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
Television,
CMW,
Moby Grape,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.