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 Rwanda and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Edmonton and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Marine Girls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dead C,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brothers Johnson,
Rod Modell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Qualms,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sound,
Talk Talk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Simply Red,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cluster,
Ohio Players,
John Foxx,
Tim Buckley,
Mark Hollis,
Scion,
Spandau Ballet,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric Copeland,
Pere Ubu,
KRS-One,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Sandy B,
Sällskapet,
Todd Terry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jacob Miller,
Angry Samoans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Juan Atkins,
The Birthday Party,
Fatback Band,
The Slits,
The Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bob Dylan,
Pulsallama,
Scratch Acid,
Scan 7,
Althea and Donna,
The Fortunes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
R.M.O.,
Spoonie Gee,
Trumans Water,
Traffic Nightmare,
Archie Shepp,
Bootsy Collins,
Eurythmics,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
Audionom,
Liliput,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.