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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 The Happenings to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Sam Rivers,
Visage,
Ken Boothe,
Ohio Players,
Max Romeo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Reed,
The Selecter,
Barclay James Harvest,
R.M.O.,
Eric Dolphy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grandmaster Flash,
The Black Dice,
Monolake,
Sight & Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Buckinghams,
Slick Rick,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hardrive,
The Doors,
Morten Harket,
Alice Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Henry Cow,
Dark Day,
Cheater Slicks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Livin' Joy,
a-ha,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Arthur Verocai,
Sandy B,
Funkadelic,
Lungfish,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Womack,
The Blues Magoos,
Roger Hodgson,
Oneida,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reagan Youth,
Camouflage,
Kas Product,
Can,
Nirvana,
Stereo Dub,
The Fugs,
Tommy Roe,
Ornette Coleman,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.