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 Djibouti and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 48th St. Collective to the crunk 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultravox,
Basic Channel,
Agitation Free,
Yazoo,
Gang of Four,
Darondo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Todd Terry,
Soul II Soul,
Rapeman,
Fluxion,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fall,
Hot Snakes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wolf Eyes,
Drexciya,
R.M.O.,
The Leaves,
Aural Exciters,
Mad Mike,
Max Romeo,
Malaria!,
Jandek,
John Lydon,
E-Dancer,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sex Pistols,
Roxette,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Infiniti,
The Toasters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Wyatt,
Chris Corsano,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Terry Callier,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick May,
Ronan,
Avey Tare,
T. Rex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Pretty Things,
Jacob Miller,
Roxy Music,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.