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 Nauru and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Patti Smith to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
R.M.O.,
The Busters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sister Nancy,
New York Dolls,
The Trojans,
Half Japanese,
Young Marble Giants,
Zapp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mantronix,
Harmonia,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Peter and Kerry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dawn Penn,
Loose Ends,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
Aural Exciters,
Joey Negro,
The Misunderstood,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed,
Brothers Johnson,
Gichy Dan,
Eric Copeland,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Near,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronnie Foster,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joy Division,
Letta Mbulu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Flag,
Juan Atkins,
Blossom Toes,
James White and The Blacks,
Cal Tjader,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chris Corsano,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Absolute Body Control,
Monks,
The Gap Band,
The Moody Blues,
Eddi Front,
Delta 5,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grauzone,
Black Moon,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.