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 Oman and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Masters at Work to the techno 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Roxette,
Cymande,
Charles Mingus,
The Techniques,
The Neon Judgement,
Sandy B,
Television Personalities,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Misunderstood,
The Angels of Light,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sparks,
Jeff Mills,
Joyce Sims,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Von Mondo,
Mission of Burma,
Ken Boothe,
Bad Manners,
The Shadows of Knight,
Heaven 17,
Livin' Joy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Index,
Babytalk,
Dead Boys,
Shoche,
Connie Case,
Bill Near,
Blossom Toes,
The Trojans,
The Tremeloes,
The Leaves,
Cal Tjader,
Lebanon Hanover,
Talk Talk,
Crime,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Cecil Taylor,
Groovy Waters,
Severed Heads,
Marine Girls,
Pantytec,
The Dead C,
Buzzcocks,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ossler,
Subhumans,
Altered Images,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Remains,
Bobby Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Cale,
Bronski Beat,
Joy Division,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Coltrane,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.