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 Pakistan and from London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Holger Czukay 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 disco 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Cecil Taylor,
Glenn Branca,
Tim Buckley,
the Normal,
Niagra,
Porter Ricks,
D'Angelo,
The Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marine Girls,
Heaven 17,
The Saints,
a-ha,
Marc Almond,
In Retrospect,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Smooth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Interpol,
Excepter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Man Parrish,
Loose Ends,
David Bowie,
Gichy Dan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Agent Orange,
The Angels of Light,
The Fortunes,
the Slits,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
Lou Reed,
Pierre Henry,
Main Source,
Siglo XX,
Los Fastidios,
Camberwell Now,
Deadbeat,
Aloha Tigers,
La Düsseldorf,
The Residents,
Bluetip,
Public Enemy,
Television Personalities,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Albert Ayler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reuben Wilson,
John Cale,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.