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 Sudan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Con Funk Shun to the rap 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
B.T. Express,
Tres Demented,
June Days,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Leaves,
Pantaleimon,
Man Parrish,
David Bowie,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Happenings,
Mars,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang of Four,
Malaria!,
Aswad,
Scion,
X-101,
Piero Umiliani,
Marmalade,
Aaron Thompson,
Colin Newman,
The Mojo Men,
Jandek,
Underground Resistance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Isaac Hayes,
Fatback Band,
Patti Smith,
Crooked Eye,
New Age Steppers,
The Stooges,
Pantytec,
Reagan Youth,
Darondo,
Prince Buster,
Sixth Finger,
The Fortunes,
Fugazi,
The Smiths,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Robert Wyatt,
the Sonics,
Y Pants,
Cecil Taylor,
Das Ding,
The Modern Lovers,
Little Man,
These Immortal Souls,
Gong,
Marcia Griffiths,
Circle Jerks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Vogues,
Bang On A Can,
Sparks,
The Skatalites,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.